


Backseat Driver

by mytinystars



Series: Special Agent Son Hyunwoo and Assassin Yoo Kihyun [4]
Category: BLACKPINK (Band), Big Bang (Band), Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drug Abuse, F/F, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jisoo in glasses bc my lesbian ass loves it, M/M, Mentioned Bangtan Boys Ensemble, Minor Chae Hyungwon/Lee Hoseok | Wonho, Minor Im Changkyun | I.M/Lee Jooheon, Murder, Murder Mystery, Original Villain Female Character, Original Villain Male Character, Parent Son Hyunwoo | Shownu, Parent Yoo Kihyun, Retired Assassin Yoo Kihyun, Retired Special Agent Son Hyunwoo | Shownu, bad guys are my own ocs, random kpop idol cameos, see if you can spot them all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-18 02:49:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 58,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21920587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mytinystars/pseuds/mytinystars
Summary: "Are we bad parents?" Kihyun asked, but this time his voice lacked coldness and iciness. In fact, it trembled a bit."No." Hyunwoo said sharply."Are we bad people?"This time, Hyunwoo hesitated a bit.Three years ago, Kihyun and Hyunwoo committed their final murder as paid assassins and retired immediately afterward, ready to dedicate their lives to being good parents to their daughter. However, it seems they can't run from their past forever--when Changkyun discovers a body behind a famous nightclub and their daughter is poisoned, things begin to catch up to them, throwing them back unwillingly into the world they left behind. Meanwhile, two clever doctors and two strong detectives must get to the bottom of this and put an end to the underground crime of South Korea.Includes main romances involving members of Monsta X, BLACKPINK, and BigBang.
Relationships: Choi Seunghyun | T.O.P./Kwon Jiyong | G-Dragon, Jennie Kim/Kim Jisoo, Lalisa Manoban | Lisa/Park Chaeyoung | Rosé, Son Hyunwoo | Shownu/Yoo Kihyun
Series: Special Agent Son Hyunwoo and Assassin Yoo Kihyun [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557196
Comments: 12
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

_Sunday, October 15, 20XX. 12:01 PM. Undisclosed Location, Seoul._

Kwon Jiyong sighed as he sat down at his desk, coffee in hand, and opened the lid of his laptop.

“Gracie, please tell me my schedule for today,” He said, dripping with routine. The computer in front of him sparked to life, a bright humming sound filling the small office. He waited patiently for the screen to brighten, and blinked. His breath caught in his throat as he read the message on the screen in front of him.

_**Only one meeting today, sir:  
3:05 pm, Sun, October 15 -- In Person meeting with Yo|NJD54KSHF>>!d Ndy6][d Kao] hsyfy aDG’[}+AH ?!????** _

_That’s weird,_ he thought bitterly, and closed the laptop with a heavy sigh. 

* * *

At 3:04 pm, Jiyong held his breath as he stood before the doors, six of his best agents and soldiers up against each wall. His heart pulsed anxiously in his chest, sending shocks of anxiety through his veins, but he kept a straight face, blank eyes, and lips pressed into a thin line. He couldn’t let whoever was about to see him notice his anxiety and more importantly, he couldn’t let the agents around him—his team, his friends, the people he considered his kids—witness his nervousness either. His sweaty palms grasped at nothing and he took a moment to remind himself of the glock strapped to the back of his leg, hidden by his trench coat. He dearly hoped it wouldn’t be needed.

The doors slid open.

Jiyong’s lips parted in shock. He heard gasps and murmurs around the room as his agents took in who they were seeing. He blinked, wanting to make sure he was seeing right.

Before Jiyong stood a man he hadn’t seen in three years, a man no one had heard from at all in the time following Diablo’s death. Before him stood a man who was strong, full, warmed by the gift of parenthood, rounded by hugging and holding the two he loved the most in the world, and softened by the gift of pure, innocent love of a child who knew no better. His cheeks were full and red, his black hair thick and wavy on his head, his skin was smoothed by the gentle touch of a little girl and the loving electricity of his other half, his one true love, the man he’d loved and married years and years ago. 

Before him stood a man whose tender gaze was weighted by a force that tugged on his happiness and security, whose eyes crinkled with age, age that had come too soon. Kihyun’s heartstrings had been wrenched and tugged on by a burden so heavy, so thick and slimy, and it left Jiyong breathless.

“Kihyun,” Jiyong found himself saying, with a soft smile, because this was a man he’d known since he was young, orphaned and scared but with a fire that refused to flicker and die. “What a surprise.”

“It’s been a long time, boss,” Kihyun smiled wearily, then dipped forwards in a deep bow. When he righted himself again, his lips twisted into a more genuine smile, a smile that ripped at Jiyong’s chest because, _God,_ he’d missed that smile. 

“Your daughter, she must be eight by now, hm?” Jiyong asked, relaxing a little bit as Kihyun stepped forwards to shake his hand. 

He fought back a wince. Why the hell was Kihyun shaking his hand? This was _Kihyun_ , who he’d raised and turned from a calloused, traumatized orphan into a killing machine, a shadowed assassin who could take a life without even blinking and be back at home in time to sing his child to sleep. Kihyun, a killer for hire who still had the capacity to love and care and _feel,_ was shaking his hand as though they were business partners and not brothers, not family. 

_Business partners._ The words echoed sourly in his mouth, tasted bitter on his tongue. 

“Yes. She turned eight last May,” Kihyun’s smile fell suddenly and Jiyong almost jumped forwards as if he could catch it, bring it back, reel it back onto his face like a fishing line with its hook snagged through the soft flesh of a fish’s lips. “She's, um, fallen very ill.” He wrung his hands, hunching over himself anxiously. "H-Hyunwoo-hyung and I had to take her to the hospital a few hours ago."

“Ill, how…?”

Kihyun looked back at Jiyong, and Jiyong felt as though he’d been kicked in the chest. His brown eyes held the warmth of a father who loves his daughter so much, the eyes that gazed upon a life so innocent, so gentle, so blissful and young and naive. But now those brown eyes held pain and baggage and anxiety and desperation that Jiyong felt no parent ever deserved to suffer. His eyes were tired and red. He looked like he was barely holding himself together.

“I think someone poisoned her.” 

The words sent a shock of cold ice up Jiyong’s spine.

“Poisoned? Why?” Jiyong said, leading Kihyun to his desk, where the younger only paced a nervous hole in the floor that only deepened with his cloaked stare.

“We have been… receiving threats,” Kihyun said slowly, and Jiyong’s heart rate spiked. “Threats to me, threats to Hyunwoo, threats to.. Chaemin. Threats to her life, her health…They tell us to stay out of everything. But we don't understand what 'everything' is supposed to mean."

Jiyong blinked, and then Kihyun was on his knees before him, hands clasped above his head. Jiyong took a shaky step back, horrified at the sight of someone so strong forced to kneel. 

“I know it’s been years, I know I have done nothing to keep in contact with you and my work, and I know I don’t deserve any of your sympathy or help. Three years ago you told Hyunwoo and me to finish our work, to focus on the journey of parenthood and the life we created and I did it because I knew you were right. Hyunwoo was angry but we did it and Chaemin is my life, I’ll sacrifice anything for her. Please allow me to be a little selfish, Jiyong,” Kihyun kept his head bowed with his hands linked above his hair, but Jiyong could see shiny tears begin to sparkle on the floor. “I know this is emotional blackmail and I will forever hate myself for it but I am so scared, Jiyong. Hyunwoo and I have never felt fear like this. It doesn’t bring us any pleasure to drag you into our private lives or to pull ourselves back into this life but please, please, I beg of you, Jiyong, help me protect my child.”

Jiyong watched with wide, horrified eyes because Kihyun shouldn’t be like this—sobbing on his knees, hands shaking and white from where they’re clasped in prayer above him, begging him for his help. Kihyun shouldn’t be begging—not for this, not for _anything_ —but especially not for this. In more than one way, Jiyong saw Kihyun as family—a little brother—and the last thing Jiyong ever wanted to see was this; a broken man desperate to protect someone he loved who hadn’t done anything in her tiny life to deserve any of this. Chaemin was only eight. She’d barely lived long enough to even begin to understand the life Hyunwoo and Kihyun lived before she came alone. Jiyong didn’t wish that kind of horror on anyone, not even his worst enemies. 

Jiyong could count on one had the number of times he'd ever actually met Chaemin. Kihyun and Hyunwoo were sharply protective—Minhyuk, Changkyun, Hoseok, Hyungwon and Jooheon were the only members of the agency who were part of her life in any way, and Jiyong didn't blame Kihyun and Hyunwoo for doing that on purpose. But she was the sweetest thing, a true product of two of the best people Jiyong had ever had the pleasure of meeting, training, loving. He looked in her eyes—Hyunwoo's eyes—and saw the flawless, most perfect blend of Kihyun and Hyunwoo; she was someone who felt things deeply, who thought about things curiously, who loved truly and thickly, who was the wonderful result of the faithful and everlasting love of her parents.

He made his decision right then and there. Shaking his head, Jiyong gripped Kihyun’s arms, pulled him back to his feet and tugged the broken man into his arms, letting him cry. Jiyong’s voice came from him next, low and serious, dangerous and cold, but so full of emotion and truth and raw feeling.

_“I will do anything it takes.”_

* * *

_Monday, October 16, 20XX. 7:37 AM. Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, Sajik-dong, Seoul._

“Yo, detective Kim.”

Detective Kim Jennie looked up from staring at her desk at the sound of her name, hurriedly blinking leftover sleep from her eyes. She relaxed a little when she realized it was her partner Lalisa Manoban standing in the doorway to her office, sagged against the doorframe and holding two steaming travel mugs of what Jennie dearly hoped was coffee. Lisa looked exhausted, but Jennie didn’t blame her at all. They were both sleep deprived.

“New case. Murder. Chaeyoung is already out there.” Lisa waltzed into the room and placed one of the mugs on the desk. “Body discovered in the backseat of an old station wagon near the Hexagon Nightclub.”

“Who called it in?” Jennie gratefully took the coffee and again rubbed at her eyes. It was way too early for this.

“You’re not gonna believe me when I tell you,” Lisa’s smirk fell, turning her expression a little more serious. “Lim Changkyun, from Kwon Jiyong’s studio agency.”

“No way.” Shock pooled in Jennie’s stomach.

“Yes way. Said he received an anonymous message to go check out the station wagon. When he got there he found the body and called us.”

“When?”

“Like, one in the morning. First thing I heard when I walked in this morning.”

Well, that would explain why Jennie hadn’t heard about this yet. She'd barely been in her office for twenty minutes. She grimaced to herself at the idea of going into the field at 7 am, but decided it couldn’t be helped despite the lack of sleep she and Lisa were both suffering. She sighed, tossing a lock of dyed brown hair over her shoulder and picking up her coffee cup.

“Let’s go, then. Rosie will kill us both if we don’t head out there sooner rather than later.”

* * *

_ Monday, October 16, 20XX. 8:19 AM. Hexagon Nightclub, Hannam-dong, Seoul. _

“Ah, detective,” Doctor Park Chaeyoung’s voice sang from somewhere to Jennie’sleft almost immediately after she got out of her police cruiser. She turned to see the doctor strolling towards her, black hair tied into a stringent bun on the crown of her head and something brownish-red coating the white latex on her hands.

“Good morning, doctor,” Jennie said with a smile.

She liked having the opportunity to talk to Chaeyoung—it wasn’t like she saw her very often. They were close friends, but Chaeyoung preferred field work rather than in a lab, and Jennei wasn’t always called out into the field to inspect murders. Now that she had advanced enough in the ranks of homicide investigation, she was usually given cases in the comfort of her own office, and the bodies were brought to her head pathologist instead of forcing the entire team to leave the station. It was refreshing to be outside and see Chaeyoung working so diligently as she always did, despite the grim reason they were there in the first place.

“What are we looking at?” Lisa asked, sliding up behind Jennie. 

Chaeyoung turned back to the station wagon, tucked away behind a building that had been slowly crumbling away. Jennie inhaled deeply; it was a picturesque crime scene. The car was black, rusted and splattered with blood and some other strange substance that Jennie didn’t really want to try to put a name on. All four tires were flat—slashed—and three out of six windows were shattered completely. Cracks and splinters in the glass webbed across the windshield, and the car doors looked to have been keyed in multiple places.

“Body’s been in there for at least a week. Its decomposition has been kind of slowed down because of the cold but it’s still almost soup. It’s gonna take Jisoo hours to dissect it.” Chaeyoung said, leading the two detectives towards the damaged car. All four doors were open, and as they approached the backseat the corpse came into view, and Jennie felt her stomach jerk.

“Jesus,” Lisa mumbled, and Jennie silently agreed.

The body was a mess of blood and the same dark substance that was dripping from the exterior of the station wagon. Despite the lack of heat, rotted flesh was hanging from bones and a mass of flies buzzed around the corpse. Jennie wrinkled her nose at the stench.

Lisa stretched her arms, showing the bulge of her muscles thickened by years of gym time, and promptly walked away towards the other members of the forensic team. Jennie didn’t blame her—she didn’t think she’d ever get used to death either, and she’d been working for almost ten years in the homicide department. It seemed like every murder was more gruesome than the last.

“I’m actually amazed at the amount of DNA in this vehicle. I’ll tell you one thing, Jennie, this murder wasn’t planned out. It might have even been involuntary manslaughter. We won’t know for sure until Jisoo gets to see it, but this was a messy killing.” Chaeyoung gave the body stretched on the bloodied leather another once over before turning back to Jennie. “We also don’t even know if all the DNA in the car belongs to the body. You see this?”

She pointed to the disgusting unnamed substance that caked the sides of the car. Jennie nodded.

“Feces.”

“Eugh,” Jennie grimaced. 

“We’ll need to test to figure out whose it is. But honestly, this crime scene is a bit of a disaster. Jisoo will have a field day with the corpse and it will take us days to finish combing the vehicle for all the prints.”

Jennie didn’t doubt that either.

"License plate has been run. This car was stolen years ago from this same area." Lisa's voice sounded from behind Jennie and she turned to find her partner standing a few feet away from the car.

"That…” Jennie sighed, “doesn’t help anything." Lisa nodded.

"Do you know what else is weird about this area?" Lisa prodded. Jennie cocked her head at Lisa, looked at her questioningly.

"No."

"The school halfway down the block is the school Diablo's body was found in." Lisa said, whispering like she was revealing a deep secret.

That was surprising. Of course Jennie knew who Diablo was—the nameless head of the biggest underground crime syndicate in Seoul, the one who succeeded James W. Fairchild following his disappearance. The knowledge of Diablo's death had spread like wildfire, and the crime rates in Seoul dropped twice as fast nearly immediately.

"Huh," Jennie hummed thoughtfully. Lisa raised her eyebrows and walked away.

* * *

_ Monday, October 16, 20XX. 2:06 PM. Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, Sajik-dong, Seoul. _

"Detective Kim."

Jennie flinched, startled, and whipped around in her desk chair. Dr. Kim Jisoo was standing in her doorway, stiff and aloof as usual. Her thinly wired glasses were taped to her face, and she held a stack of four or five papers in both hands.

"Autopsy report?"

The doctor nodded, and floated into the room, placing the report in front of Jennie. The detective felt her eyes widen upon picking it up—the report was a staggering four and a half pages long. It must have taken Jisoo ages to complete the entire autopsy.

"40-something male, a little under 150 pounds. Dead for almost 142 hours upon my dissection. Had the beginnings of meningitis, minor osteoarthritis, and likely suffered chronic shoulder pain due to a stretched brachial plexus in his left shoulder, but something kept him from seeing a doctor. Examination of his genitals revealed he was involved sexually with both genders."

"Anything about alcohol or drugs?"

"Almost no alcohol consumption but a heavy amount of lysergic acid diethylamide—"

"What?"

"LSD," Dr. Kim clarified, annoyed, "among other hallucinogens. He also used benzoylmethylecgonine, cannabis, tramadol, and fentanyl at some point too."

"I have no idea what any of that is."

"Cocaine, marijuana, and various narcotic painkillers."

“Drugs but no alcohol, huh?”

“Tramadol is known to be highly dangerous when taken or mixed with alcohol. It can cause respiratory distress or death. The victim was likely aware of this.”

"But drug use was not the cause of death?"

"No. Blunt force trauma to the head and face and bleeding out from several arterial stab wounds. His skull was fractured in several places, likely with the use of a crowbar or metal pipe. Stab wounds were caused by either a switchblade or a utility knife. Whoever killed this man did it in a frenzy, perhaps out of self defense, and wanted him to suffer a slow, painful death. Several of the tarsals, metatarsals, and phalanges were snapped posthumously, probably due to being shoved into the backseat of a car."

Jennie nodded like she knew what Jisoo was saying, but the doctor was speaking rapidly and using medical terminology the detective wasn't familiar with. Jennie had no idea what a brachial plexus or osteoarthritis was, or what tarsals or metatarsals were, but she saved herself from further irritating the doctor by keeping her mouth shut.

"He was facing whoever killed him, as his face was mutilated and I found some nasal bones piercing his eyes. His autopsy also revealed that this victim was quite strong and muscular and likely able to overpower anyone who tried to attack him frontward. Whoever killed him did it with help; this murder was done by more than one person."

"Did Chaeyoung run his DNA?"

"Yes, but DNA can take up to a week to fully sequence and we might not have anything for him in the system. And identification by facial recognition is not going to work."  
Jennie rubbed her eyes.

"How long did the dissection take you?"

"Almost two hours."

"That's it?" Jennie looked up at the doctor in shock. Dr. Kim shrugged.

"I agree with Dr. Park. This murder was messy and not planned out. Even if it had been, I still have my doubts about how thought provoking this case would have been. Besides, my job is the easy part. Your job, detective, is the hardest—finding motive and tracking the killer. Or in this case, killer _s_."

Jennie sometimes forgot just how damn good Jisoo was at what she did. At this point, the young doctor was so good at autopsies and other forensic sciences that she only really was asked to assist in cases that were big or otherwise complex. Chaeyoung and Jisoo were an excellent team; despite their differences, they worked together like magic. Jennie supposed she needed to be more grateful that she had doctors like Chaeyoung and Jisoo on her team.

"Knock, knock." Lisa poked her head into the room.

"Autopsy done?" She asked. Jisoo nodded, and Jennie held out the papers as Lisa approached the desk and sat down on the edge. "Jesus, this is long."

"Messy murder. Probably not planned, likely in self defense. Blunt force trauma and arterial wounds. Male guy in his 40s, he was a druggie who apparently was strong and muscular and killed by at least two people, maybe more." Jennie summarized. Lisa clicked her tongue, flipping through the papers.

"Sheesh. I'll take this to Chaeyoung-unnie," She made to stand, then turned back around. "Oh, I almost forgot to ask. Do you know the names Son Hyunwoo and Yoo Kihyun?"

Jennie sat for a minute, contemplating. They sounded familiar.

"Yes..?" Jennie guessed, looking towards the ceiling in thought. "Didn't they work with Jiyong? Then retired after they had a kid?"

Lisa nodded. "Their kid is, like, eight now."

"Mm. Sounds familiar. Why do you ask?"

"Kid's been poisoned."

"What?" Jennie sat up a little straighter. She glanced around and realized Jisoo had left at some point. She hadn't even seen the doctor leave. Jisoo was a bit like a ghost—cold, silent and graceful, walked almost as if she were levitating. Jennie didn’t think she’d be surprised if Jisoo had actually floated through the wall.

"That's what they think, at least. Which is weird and definitely not a coincidence.”

“Do you know what the kid was poisoned with?”

“No, I don’t. But I think it's linked to this murder."

"How?"

"Dunno. But I was talking to Jiyong over the phone earlier—and you know he’s nothing if not logical, but he is pretty much convinced there's some kind of connection. He specifically asked me and you to keep our eyes open for it. We're supposed to go to his agency tomorrow with Chaeyoung and Jisoo and tell him what we've figured out."  
"I think it's a long shot to say a murder of a druggie is linked to the supposed poisoning of an eight year old."

"Regardless, Jiyong wants us to help him. Besides, you forgot the most interesting bit. Yoo Kihyun and Son Hyunwoo are the ones who took down Diablo in that school like half a block away from the nightclub, remember? Doesn't it make sense to you that their kid might be targeted? Maybe by someone who worked for him or loved him or something?"

"I really don't know how Diablo's death, the murder of this guy, and an eight year old being poisoned could possibly all be related, Lisa-yah. We don’t even have the identity of the victim yet. It’s too early to make assumptions."

"There has to be something."

"I wonder if Sanghyuk could tell us anything about this."

Lisa rolled her eyes. "Don't get your hopes up. It's been months since we've heard from him, and you’re the only one who can actually get anything out of him."

"Yeah, but he hangs around that area. He might know what happened and if there's any connection." Jennie chose to ignore the other half of the statement.

"Alright, I'll leave you to go question him. But I actually have to agree with Jiyong, Jennie. This is weird. The daughter of the two guys who killed the biggest underground crime lord since James W. Fairchild has been poisoned. A druggie who hung around the same area as Diablo prior to his death has been brutally murdered. I'm telling you there's something there."

"Okay, okay," Jennie combed a hand through her hair. "I understand your thinking. We'll have to get more evidence. However likely it may be, none of the logic will matter if there's not evidence."

Lisa nodded, and turned back towards the door.

"We'll get these guys," She said as she left. "We'll get to the bottom of what happened."

"Sure hope you're right," Jennie muttered to herself as the door shut with a click.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Time:**  
>  Kihyun and Hyunwoo meet the forensic/detective team. Chaemin gets a little worse. Lisa and Jennie visit the nightclub.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kihyun and Hyunwoo meet the detectives working the case. Chaemin gets worse. Lisa and Jennie visit the nightclub.

_Wednesday, October 17, 20XX. 11:24 AM. Undisclosed Location, Seoul._

Kihyun and Hyunwoo sat in front of Jiyong’s desk, watching the older man in silence. It had been years since either of them had spent more than ten minutes in that office, but Kihyun found himself ridiculously relieved that barely anything had changed. The only noticeable difference was the new picture frame facing Jiyong’s desk chair and away from Kihyun. He wondered what, or who, was in the frame. 

“At one o’clock on Monday morning, Changkyun received an anonymous message urging him to investigate the abandoned black station wagon parked a block or so behind the Hexagon Nightclub in Gangnam. I let him go down there on the condition he take a team of at least five people for backup. He took agents Minhyuk, Jooheon, Hyungwon, Hoseok, and Jungkook.” Jiyong explained rapidfire. Kihyun had forgotten his tendency to talk quicker and quicker the more excited he got, but after eight years of learning how to decipher a little girl’s language, he knew exactly what Jiyong was saying. “What they found was a crime scene; blood, slashed tires, broken windows, and a decaying body stretched across the backseat of the car. He asked me what to do and I told him to call the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency. They spent most of Monday and pretty much all of the next day investigating the scene and the body. The detectives and doctors at the scene are coming here today to fill us in on their findings.”

Kihyun and Hyunwoo looked at each other. All of this was very interesting and thought-provoking, but they were still struggling to understand how any of this related to Chaemin’s mystery illness. She’d fallen so ill so quickly Kihyun hadn’t had much of a choice other than to take her to the hospital, where she was currently staying with Minhyuk. The past four days had been some of the longest of Kihyun’s life, knowing his baby was ill and there was nothing he could do. 

“Jiyong, I don’t understand how—”

“This relates to Chaemin? Yeah, neither do I,” Jiyong sighed, anxiously running a hand through his graying hair. “But they have to be linked somehow. It’s just not a coincidence. And if her test results come back today and prove that she has indeed been poisoned, then we know for certain there’s some kind of relation. But, Kihyun-ah—”

He cut himself off with a frustrated breath.

“I’m not asking you to get involved in this. After Diablo was killed, you told me you wanted to retire, and I respected that decision then and I still respect it now. I’m leaving the decision up to you. Do you want to come back to work and help with investigation, or do you want me to place you under protection?”

Kihyun stared at Jiyong, who stared back. His main priority was Chaemin. It was always going to be Chaemin. Her safety, health, and happiness was always first and foremost to Kihyun and he would stop at nothing to achieve it. The idea of something happening to his little girl was dizzying and made him feel sick.

“Can we talk about it for a minute?” Hyunwoo asked gravely.

Jiyong nodded coolly, and stood from his desk. “The doctors and detectives should be arriving soon. I’ll come back with them and we can discuss things further.”

He swiftly left the room, leaving Kihyun and Hyunwoo in silence. Hyunwoo’s hand found Kihyun’s, Hyunwoo’s much larger appendage practically swallowing Kihyun’s delicate fingers.

“What do we do?” Kihyun asked, feeling lost, “if we go back to the hospital and they tell us Chae has been poisoned, then it means there’s a connection with this murder and her illness. And what if this is all related to Diablo?”

Hyunwoo was quiet, watching the floor thoughtfully, as though lost in his own mind. This was their worst nightmare coming to fruition. Kihyun wanted to hit himself. He should have known they couldn’t keep Chaemin out of their past lives forever. All they wanted was to protect her, but they seemed incapable of even doing that.

“Please don’t blame yourself,” Hyunwoo’s soft voice brought tears to Kihyun’s eyes. “This isn’t our fault. Whoever did this wanted us to come back for a reason. Whoever is behind Chae’s illness did it so we’d get back into this life. We need to decide if we want to take the bait.”

“I’ll do anything for her,” Kihyun said, speaking without even thinking.

Hyunwoo nodded. “Me too.”

“We should have known this wasn’t the end. I guess three years of absolute silence is going to do that to you, huh?” Kihyun sighed wistfully, struggling against tears that threatened to boil over. 

“I thought it was over too,” Hyunwoo replied slowly, and Kihyun found himself frustrated with the level, calm tone Hyunwoo maintained while he spoke. “But you and I both knew the risks of having Chae. A normal life isn’t a given for her and it won’t ever be. We both knew that. All we can do now is protect her.”

“What if it’s too late?”

The words left Kihyun’s lips before he could think about them, and he clamped his mouth shut as his heart dropped like a stone into his stomach. Hyunwoo stilled next to him, his hand tightening around Kihyun’s own hand, and went silent. Kihyun’s insides twisted nauseatingly as Hyunwoo’s silence filled the entire room, smothering both of them. 

“I-I’m sorry—”

“Kihyun.”

Hyunwoo tilted his head to gaze at the ceiling. He blinked once, slowly, and a tear fell from the corner of his left eye. Kihyun thumbed it away. Hyunwoo didn’t react.

The doors slid open again, but only Kihyun turned around to look. Jiyong stood tentatively in the threshold to the office, watching with a hooded sadness Kihyun felt was familiar. 

“We don’t want to get involved,” Kihyun spoke, surprised at how tight his own voice was. He swallowed thickly. “We—we just want to protect Chae.”

Jiyong nodded sagely, as though he’d been expecting that exact answer. He pressed his lips into a thin line.

“We can discuss it more later. The detectives from the SMPA are here if you’d like to talk to them.” Jiyong offered. 

Kihyun nodded and got to his feet, expecting Hyunwoo to let go of his hand, but he didn’t—he held on tightly and stood up too. Jiyong disappeared back into the hallway, then returned with four women in tow. Two donned pristine white lab coats, black pants, close toed flats, and the other two were dressed more casually—jeans, leather jackets, boots and sneakers.

“Kihyun, Hyunwoo,” Jiyong announced with a deep breath, “these are the detectives and doctors working the murder case. If there’s a connection between the murder and Chaemin, they’ll work that case too.”

Kihyun gave the doctors a once over. Both women were striking, but even at first glance it was painfully obvious they were very different. The woman on the left stood with squared shoulders, tight lips, and crossed arms. Her hair, long and red, was wound into a tight knot on her head, and despite being not more than five-foot-four, she looked larger than life, confident and trustworthy. The doctor on the right was taller and thinner, perhaps around five-foot-seven. She kept both feet together, her left hand clutching a folder swollen with crinkled papers. A medical mask hid most of her face, but what Kihyun could see was the gaze of an owl, blinking slowly and carefully behind what was probably the thickest pair of glasses he’d ever seen. Her hair was shorter, and pulled into a low ponytail. They both seemed genius, and Kihyun found himself intrigued.

The detectives were also both women, and unlike the drastic height difference between the two doctors, they were about the same height. The detective on the right wore a brown leather jacket that matched the color of her dyed hair, and her eyes were sharp dark orbs that took in everything around her. The other detective had blonde hair, bangs, and donned a t-shirt that showed off the bulge of her muscles. Neither of them looked like the type to be tussled with, standing with level headed and pinched stares that seemed to gaze right through Kihyun. It wasn’t a gaze he was unfamiliar with, not at all. Even he had worn that stare.

The detective with dyed hair was the first to step forward, and bowed in greeting to Kihyun.

“It's good to meet you, Kihyun-ssi. My name is Detective Kim Jennie,” She said, her voice as sweet as a honeycomb as she extended a hand to Kihyun. She gestured to the other detective, the muscular woman with blonde hair. “This is my partner, Detective Manoban Lalisa.” 

Detective Manoban smiled warmly, but otherwise didn’t react. The redheaded doctor then approached, bowing quickly before also reaching to shake Kihyun’s hand.

“I’m Doctor Park Chaeyoung. I’m the forensic specialist on Detective Kim’s team.” Her voice was higher pitched but just as strong and smooth as Detective Kim’s. She glanced over her shoulder at the taller doctor, who was still staring owlishly at Hyunwoo and Kihyun.

“My name is Doctor Kim Jisoo. I am the head forensic pathologist.” She spoke quiescently and softly. It almost sounded like her voice had an echo. She was interesting, Kihyun decided. He wasn’t sure he’d met anyone like her. In fact, all these women were unique, and powerful in their own way. Perhaps it was too early to decide, but he figured he might be able to trust them.

“The body— it was discovered by whom?” Detective Kim appeared to direct the question to Kihyun or Hyunwoo, but it was Jiyong who answered.

“Lim Changkyun. One of our snipers. He said he was contacted anonymously.”

“Can we read the message?” Detective Manoban spoke for the first time, and Kihyun was both surprised and not surprised by the sound of her voice. Of all four women, she was the most physically imposing, so he guessed it was only natural her voice match her physique.

“Absolutely,” Jiyong said and lead the group towards his desk. He clicked around a little bit on his computer before a short message popped up on the screen. He turned the computer towards the detectives. Kihyun and Hyunwoo both leaned in to read it.

**_Lim Changkyun-ssi_ **

**_Please heed my warning. This might be strange and sound like a scam but something terrible has occurred. Please go to the Hexagon Nightclub in Hannam-dong and venture behind the building. You’ll find a station wagon that has been terribly damaged. Please investigate it. There is something wrong there._ **

“That’s all,” Detective Kim murmured, more to herself than anyone else. Even Kihyun was a little surprised by the lack of concrete, convincing evidence, and briefly wondered what had possessed Changkyun to go scope out the car.

“Doctor Kim,” Detective Manoban said, bringing the spotlight to the ghost-like doctor, who pulled down her medical mask. “Will you explain the findings of the autopsy?”

“40 year old man. 150 pounds, approximately six-foot-two-inches tall. Lots of muscle mass. He was a very physically imposing figure. Dead for almost 144 hours before my dissection. Sexually involved with both genders, revealed by small tears in the genitalia. No alcohol consumption but heavy amounts of lysergic acid diethylamide and narcotics.” The doctor spoke so quickly Kihyun struggled for a second to catch up with what she was saying before she continued. “Cause of death was blunt force trauma to the head and face, and small but deep arterial wounds. This murder was messy, probably committed by multiple people, and most likely out of self defense.”

“Committed by multiple people?” Hyunwoo repeated, speaking up for the first time in ten minutes.

“As I said, the man was six-foot-two, weighed 150 pounds and almost all of his weight was muscle. Judging by the severity of the injuries sustained, a murder of this level of violence was probably a gang-murder. A single person would not have been able to inflict this much damage on this man.” Dr. Kim concluded.

She turned a little to face Dr. Park. Kihyun noticed her glasses, which were too thinly wired to hold such thick lenses, were taped to her face. He wondered if new glasses were too expensive for her, or if she simply didn’t care enough to get new ones. 

Dr. Park must have taken Dr. Kim’s look to mean it was her turn to speak, because she opened her mouth next.

“Fully examining the car revealed six unique sets of DNA. One belonged to our victim and the other five are still being tested to see if we have any data for them in our system. Five different sets of fingerprints, blood, and fecal matter were found on the tires, the windows, the doors, the doorhandles, and the trunk handle, but nothing else was found at the scene; no murder weapons, no poison, nothing.” She spoke slower than Dr. Kim, making it easier to keep up, but she still spoke with a severity and level of discipline that made Kihyun slightly uneasy.

“However, the real reason we’re here is because we were told that your daughter had been poisoned. When did this happen?” Detective Manoban took over at that point, signalling the change of direction in the conversation, and Kihyun shared a look with Hyunwoo. The detective must have noticed their unease, because she hurried to assure them. “Please don’t worry, whatever you tell us is safe with us. We want to see if there is a connection between your daughter’s poisoning and the murder of this victim.”

“Well, she fell sick a day ago. At first it was just a headache, shortness of breath and chest pain, but we didn’t think too much of it because she has a heart defect and attacks like those are fairly common.”

“A heart defect? Of what severity?” Dr. Kim spoke up then, surprising Kihyun a little. Her tone of voice had turned serious, her eyes wide and sharp behind her glasses.

“Aortic stenosis. It isn’t bad enough to require surgery but it makes certain things such as exercise hard. If she over-stimulates herself she gets chest pains and has a hard time breathing. We just thought she had run around a little bit too much.” Hyunwoo answered the doctor, who was watching him carefully. Both doctors were.

“Normally her attacks don’t last long, so we just tried to wait it out, but then.. Then she started shaking and her skin was so cold. She said she was dizzy and felt sick. We took her to the hospital after she almost collapsed.” Retelling the story made Kihyun’s hands tremble. The more he talked about Chaemin, the more he found himself desperately wishing to be at her side. She had barely been breathing, her skin was cold and clammy. She must have been terrified. The thought caused fresh tears to spring to his eyes.

“She couldn’t breathe, had a slow heartbeat, cold skin, disorientation, and then lost consciousness?” Dr. Park repeated. When Kihyun nodded in confirmation, the two doctors turned to each other. “That sounds like—”

“An opioid overdose,” Dr. Kim said gravely. 

Kihyun’s legs gave out. 

* * *

_ Wednesday, October 17, 20XX. 4:51 PM. Asan Medical Center, Pungnap-dong, Seoul. _

Chaemin lay asleep on her back in her hospital bed with an oxygen mask strapped to her face when Kihyun and Hyunwoo walked into the room, followed by Jiyong. Minhyuk, who had been slowly falling asleep, jerked upright as the door was thrust open. Kihyun looked pale and shaky, and immediately went to her side. Minhyuk stood up and let him sit in the chair he’d pulled up to her bedside; Kihyun flashed him a sad, grateful look before sitting down and taking her hand.

“How did the meeting with the detectives go?” Minhyuk asked Jiyong. 

“Muscular middle-aged druggie bashed to death by four or five people.”

“Four or five?” Minhyuk gaped. Jiyong nodded.

“They found six sets of DNA in the car where the body was found. One set belonged to the victim and the other five currently don’t have names yet. None of them have been identified.” Jiyong explained. “Given the nature of the murder, the doctors figure it was probably self defense. Either way, the murder itself was frenzied and not a swift killing or anything. The killers destroyed the body—it’s totally unrecognizable.”

“Jesus,” Minhyuk mumbled. 

“Did the doctors say anything about a diagnosis?” Kihyun asked Minhyuk. Hyunwoo had moved to sit next to him on the arm of the chair and was gently smoothing Chaemin’s hair away from her face.

“Um..” 

The answer was yes. Yes they had. But Minhyuk didn’t know if he could say it. It was awful. It was so awful. He knew what effect it would have on the little family. 

But Jiyong, Hyunwoo, and Kihyun were looking at him with intense, expectant, and pleading gazes. He opened his mouth to answer.

“Is it an opioid overdose?” Jiyong asked suddenly.

Minhyuk shut his mouth and blinked, shocked. 

“Yes,” He said. “That’s what the doctors decided on. They said it was Tramadol. How did you—”

“The forensic doctors we talked to today made that conclusion based on what Kihyun and Hyunwoo told them about her sickness,” Jiyong ran a hand over his face, stress making him look nearly ten years older. 

“Is there a connection between this and the murder?” Minhyuk was a little afraid to ask. He’d done some research of his own on Tramadol after the doctors began to pump her stomach.

“There has to be. There has to be,” Jiyong muttered, shaking his head. “This is just too weird. Min—where the hell would she get _Tramadol?_ Jesus, Minhyuk—someone poisoned Chaemin.”

 _Someone poisoned Chaemin._

His heart thudded to a stop in his chest. The words echoed in Minhyuk’s head, banging around the sides of his skull, making him slightly dizzy. This was what he—what _everyone_ —had been fearing. This was like a nightmare coming to life. 

“Ho-how did they help her?” Kihyun’s entire body was shaking when Minhyuk finally found it in him to look at the terrified man. “Is she going to be okay?”

“They pumped her stomach,” Minhyuk couldn’t stop the tremble in his own voice. “She’ll be okay, but… it was close.”

Tears sprang to Minhyuk’s eyes when Kihyun started crying. His sobbing escalated quickly—in just a few seconds he went from soft, hitching cries to wailing like Chaemin hadn’t been saved. Hyunwoo was quick to gather the younger into his arms, and Minhyuk and Jiyong both took it as a cue to leave. 

They left the room swiftly and silently, and Minhyuk made it two steps into the hallway before running right into Hoseok and Hyungwon. Jooheon and Changkyun followed a little bit behind them, but quickly caught up upon seeing their boss and coworker.

Kihyun was crying loudly enough to be heard even through the closed door, and all four of Minhyuk’s teammembers glanced at it, pain in their gazes. Hoseok looked between Minhyuk and Jiyong, eyes wide and expecting.

“Opioid overdose,” Jiyong said gruffly, without waiting for them to speak. 

Hoseok’s mouth fell open as Hyungwon’s eyes widened.

“ _Opium?_ ” Changkyun breathed, gaping. “What—”

“Tramadol,” Minhyuk said, taking a shaky breath in. “It-it’s a narcotic painkiller. It’s definitely not meant to be given to anyone under the age of 12 and with Chae’s breathing problems and heart defect—” He cut himself off, swallowing. “The doctor said it was a miracle she didn’t... die.”

Jooheon whimpered, hiding his face in his hands. Hoseok and Changkyun also looked ready to cry, and honestly, Minhyuk didn’t blame them at all. Minhyuk himself had spent a fair amount of time crying once Chaemin’s diagnosis and procedure had been over with.

“Where did she get it?” Hyungwon seemed like he was the only one able to speak, but his own face had blanched dramatically. Minhyuk decided he couldn’t answer, feeling bile rise in his throat, and only shook his head.

“She wouldn’t have gotten it anywhere,” Jiyong’s voice was sad, tight, tired. “Someone had to have given it to her. She’s only eight, she doesn’t know any better. This wasn’t an accident. Someone poisoned her.”

Jooheon’s legs gave out and Hoseok barely managed to react in time to catch him, lowering him down to the floor to lean against the wall. Minhyuk almost joined him. 

Hyungwon was pinching the skin between his eyes, but Minhyuk knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t irritated or annoyed—he was trying to stop himself from breaking down then and there. Changkyun was looking down and away from Minhyuk, so he couldn’t see his face, but his shoulders were hitching in the silent way they did when he was crying. Minhyuk’s vision started to blur from salty tears pooling in his eyes.

“Kwon Jiyong-ssi?”

Minhyuk looked up, blinking, at the sound of an unfamiliar female voice. Two tall women, both taller than Changkyun, though it may have been due to the heels of their boots, were walking down the hallway with blank but serious expressions. As they walked side-by-side under the harsh fluorescence of the hallway lights, something shiny glinted by their waists. Minhyuk’s gaze inspected the glimmer and blinked in surprise when he saw police badges attached to both women’s hips.

“Detectives,” Jiyong subtly wiped at his own eyes before offering the detectives a halfhearted bow. “How can I help you?”

The detective with brown hair glanced at where Jooheon was sobbing on the floor of the corridor, Hoseok crouched next to him, and her eyebrows furrowed. She also shot a quick glance at Hyungwon and Changkyun, who were both openly crying, and looked back at Jiyong, her gaze concerned.

“Is now a bad time?” She asked tentatively, her voice smooth like honey. “We came to see if the substance in the girl’s body had been identified. It’s the only way to see if there’s a link between the murder and her poisoning.”

“Um—Dr. Kim and Dr. Park were correct. It was an opioid overdose.” Jiyong replied, and Minhyuk had to give him some credit for how little his voice shook. “She’ll be alright, I believe.”

“Would the substance happen to be Fentanyl or Tramadol?” The detective with blonde hair and bangs spoke suddenly and sharply, as though having made a serious mental connection. Minhyuk’s heart skipped a beat, and suddenly everyone else was looking at the blonde woman.

“It was Tramadol,” Jiyong blinked. 

The detectives looked at each other, but their expressions were very different—the brunette looked confused, but the other’s eyes were wide.

“Jennie,” The blonde detective breathed. “Jisoo found Tramadol in the victim.”

* * *

_ Thursday, 19 October, 20XX. 6:42 PM. Hexagon Nightclub, Hannam-dong, Seoul. _

“Alright, listen up. We’re here to search for murder weapons or motives and ask around what happened the night of October 10.” Jennie instructed, voice loud to leave no room for argument. “Talk to any workers and if they can’t tell you, talk to regulars. The workers should be aware of why we’re here, but the locals probably won’t. If necessary, explain why you’re there—but don’t give away any other information. Don’t forget, we have a legal warrant to be here—someone was murdered in or around this building. Also, if you find any narcotic drugs _at all,_ report it _directly_ to me or Detective Manoban. We’ll come to investigate. Questions?”

There was silence.

“Alright. Get to work.”

The crowd of four or five officers and detectives disbanded. Lisa made her way over to Jennie.

“Okay, Detective Loser, let’s get going,” She teased. Jennie stuck her tongue out at Lisa, but followed her into the nightclub.

Harsh EDM and rap music pumped through oversized speakers, so loudly Jennie was able to feel the bass in her stomach. The sun was setting, casting a warm amber glow through the windows, but the pretty light didn’t distract Jennie from what she was seeing—the nightclub was obviously popular. Even for only six-thirty on a Thursday night, the dance floor was bustling and booming. LED lights of all colors danced around the room, and the DJ at the music station was jumping along with the people on the dance floor. Most of the people looked far from sober, and a glance at the bar told her why—it was happy hour from six to ten. Jennie sighed. Dealing with dancing drunks was not really what she had in mind for tonight.

The bar was all the way across the dance floor, making matters worse. She and Lisa shared a dull look before they headed toward the mob. Wrestling their way through proved to be a struggle—Lisa had started out behind Jennie and when Jennie looked over her shoulder, her partner was gone. Frustrated already, Jennie forced her way through the sea of drunks, ignoring yells and shouts of irritation. Finally she staggered off the dance floor, shaking a young man off her shoulder. A second later, Lisa practically fell through the crowd, and righted herself with a toss of her blonde hair. 

“That sucked,” She said.

Jennie couldn’t help but laugh in agreement. “Come on.”

The bartender, a beautiful young girl with fluffy bright red hair and green eye contacts, looked up as Lisa and Jennie approached. Her lips were full and red, rivalling the rich color of her hair, and she leaned across the bar to rest her chin on folded, delicate fingers, blinking at the two of them through long eyelashes.

“Good evening, ladies,” She smiled widely. It was almost sexy, but she almost had to shout to be heard over the crowd and music. “How can I help you tonight?”

Lisa and Jennie both held up their police badges as a way of answering, and the woman sighed, the seducing look on her face slipping away as she stood upright.

“You’re here to investigate?” She asked, sounding bored. 

“Yes. Can you tell us anything?” Lisa asked.

“I actually can’t. I wasn’t working the night the body was found, and I didn’t actually start working here until, like, three weeks ago.”

“The body was found on October 16, but the victim died around October 10.”

“I wasn’t working either of those days. Sorry.”

“Can you tell us who was?”

“Sure. Chan, he has blue hair and is wearing a black and blue t shirt. Also Hyunjin, his hair is black and boring but he’s in a pink and red suit tonight. Oh, and I think Chungha was working too. You’ll find her easily—she only ever wears yellow, and her hair is long and blond. I think Jeongin and Jisung were working too, but I haven’t seen them since, like, October 8th. You’ll know who they are because they’re like four years younger than the rest of us. Also, the DJ was working that night too, but good luck finding a chance to talk to him. He doesn’t like to be distracted on the job. Takes it very seriously, you know?”

“Thank you for the guidance.” Jennie said with a fake smile.

“No problem. Can I get you anything to drink? Oh, wait—you probably can’t drink on the job. Well, if you need anything else, you know where to find me. My name is Joy.” 

Lisa and Jennie walked away without responding. Once they were a safe distance from the bar, Jennie turned to survey the massive crowd. She saw a flash of shiny blonde hair a little to the left of the DJ’s station, and when she turned to look fully at it, she saw a woman wearing bright yellow bell bottoms and a yellow bra. Chungha, Jennie guessed. The woman was laughing loudly, grinning from ear to ear, and carrying a tray of six glasses of alcohol.

“Hey—” Lisa nudged her. “I think I see Chan over there. I’ll go talk to him.”

“Okay, good luck,” Jennie watched Lisa leave then turned back to where she’d seen the blonde woman. She was holding the now empty tray under her arm and walking leisurely towards a set of curtains Jennie guessed lead to the kitchen.

Jennie jogged to catch up with the woman. Chungha made a big show of winking at the DJ as she passed the music station, then tossed the black curtains aside and strolled into the kitchen area.

“Hey,” Jennie called, following the woman into the kitchen. Chungha turned around, startled, and flailed her arms wildly as she saw Jennie.

“Woah, honey, you can’t be back here,” She cried, waving long fingers with nails that must have been at least three inches long.

“I’m with the SMPA.” Jennie held up her badge for emphasis. “I’d like to talk to you, if that’s alright.”

The woman pursed her lips, which were stained a light pink, and glanced at the clock on the wall. She tapped a long nail against her cheek.

“Can you wait, like, eight minutes? I get a fifteen minute break at seven.” 

Jennie checked her watch; six-fifty-two. She sighed and nodded stiffly. “Can I wait here?”

“Oh, sure!” Chungha gushed. “If the cooks come to bother you just tell them you’re waiting for me. They won’t bother you.”

The next eight minutes were the longest of Jennie’s life. She stood in the threshold of the kitchen, leaning against the wall, and every time a waiter or cook came near her, they gave her a weird look until they saw the badge clipped to her waist, which she made sure was in plain sight. At exactly seven o’clock, Chungha burst through the curtains, swinging her hips and tapping her ridiculously long nails on the wall.

“I’m ready!” She sang. “Let’s sit over here.”

Chungae lead Jennie to a small sitting area in the corner of the kitchen, a little ways away from the main cooking area. She plopped down into a chair and gestured grandiosely to the other. Jennie slowly sat down.

“Were you working the night of October 10th?” Jennie said, getting right to the point.

“October 10… Tuesday?” Chungae tapped at her face again. “Yes, yes I was. That’s why you’re here, right?”

“Yes. Can you tell me anything about that night?”

“Well, wait—the body was found on the 16th, though?”

“The victim was killed around the 10th. The body was found on the 16th. Can you tell me about the 10th?”

Chungae shrugged. “I mean, everything was normal for a Tuesday night. It wasn’t very busy.”

“Who was working that night?”

“Me, Chan, Hyunjin, Jeongin, Jisung, and Taeyong.”

“Taeyong is who?”

“He’s the DJ.”

“And what about Jeongin and Jisung?”

“They were supposed to work tonight too, but I actually haven’t seen them since the 10th. Actually, they disappeared like halfway through their shift on the 10th. I saw Sanghyuk but then—”

“Sanghyuk?” Jennie interrupted. Chungha sat up in surprise.

“You know him?”

“No. Well, kind of. What were they doing?”

“I don’t know. Sanghyuk doesn’t come here to drink. He goes up to the boss’s room every Monday night at exactly eight o’clock at night and then he vanishes. On Tuesday I saw him go up to the room and he didn’t come back down. Or at least, I didn’t see him come back down. He looked like he was in a hurry going up those stairs, though.”

“Is there anything up there? Any bar or secret lounge?”

Chungha flushed. “No—well, yes. There is. But I don’t recommend going up there unless you’ve been invited. It’s boss’s secret.”

“Have you been up there?”

“No.” It was clearly a lie, given the way her blush deepened and she looked at the ceiling, but Jennie let it go. 

“Did anything else strange happen the night of the 10th?”

Chungha shrugged, picking at one of her ridiculously long nails. “No. Aside from Jeongin and Jisung dipping and Sanghyuk showing up, nothing else.”

“Well, I appreciate your time.” Jennie made to stand. Chungha flashed a grin full of teeth.

“Anytime, sweetheart! I wanna help Officer Hotshot catch the bad guy,” She giggled, giving Jennie a seductive wink. It took every bit of self control for Jennie to not roll her eyes. She opened her mouth to thank Chungha, but then a loud yell made her jump. She and Chungha both turned towards the black curtains, where the DJ—Taeyong, Jennie’s mind supplied—was running towards Chungha, mouth open in a loud shout.

Chungha jumped from her seat and met him halfway, falling into his arms and giggling like a madwoman. He kissed her hungrily, like he was attacking something, and Jennie looked at the ceiling. She stood up, preparing to leave, but her movement caught his attention.

“Yo! Who’re you?” He demanded. She couldn’t see his eyes—he was wearing a ridiculous visor that made him look like a robot—but she didn’t hear or otherwise detect any malice in him.

“Bunny, this is a police officer,” Chungha tried. “I don’t know her name—”

“Detective Kim,” Jennie said shortly.

“Yeah, Detective Kim! She asked me about last October 10th,” Chungha replied. 

“Last Tuesday?” Taeyong lifted his visor, revealing a sweaty but still wildly good looking face. “You mean six days before the body was found?”

“Yes. Do you know anything?”

“Um…” Taeyong was breathing pretty heavily, so Jennie gave him a minute to catch his breath and think. “Sanghyuk showed up.”

“I told her that.” Chungha pouted. He booped her nose.

_“Detective Kim!”_

All three turned towards one of Jennie’s younger officers, Beomgyu, came running into the kitchen the next second. He skidded to a stop in front of Jennie, and she put a gentle hand on the kid’s shoulder so he didn’t fall over. 

“What? What is it?”

Beomgyu righted himself, and looked at Jennie with wide eyes, tossing his tousled blonde hair out of his eyes.

“You wanna come take a look at this.”

She followed Beomgyu out of the kitchen, around the dancing mob that only seemed to have gotten bigger and behind the bar. Joy, the redhead from earlier, stared Jennie down as the two passed, but something had changed about her demeanor—she looked nervous, shaky, a hand pressed to her mouth. A doorway Jennie hadn’t noticed earlier was now open, a few paces away from the large liquor cabinet. As she and Beomgyu approached it, Lisa came down the steps.

“Lisa? What is it?”

Lisa let out a heavy breath, eyes wide, and gestured for Jennie to follow her. Jennie started up the steps, Beomgyu behind her. The stairway was surprisingly very clean despite having a musty smell like mildew, and Jennie decided these might be the stairs that Chungha had been talking about earlier. It was easily overlooked, though it wasn’t like it was hidden at all, and it was clean enough to have been used regularly. 

Several more of her officers were standing in the hallway at the top of the stairs. There were two doors down the tiny corridor, both open—she could see inside one, and a brief glance told her it was a bathroom. Lisa lead her into the doorway opposite from the bathroom.

Jennie’s breath left her in a gasp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next time:**  
>  Jennie finds the real crime scene. Enter wingman Lisa. Kihyun and Hyunwoo feel guilty. Jennie meets with someone from her past.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennie investigates the real murder scene. Kihyun and Hyunwoo feel guilty. Jennie meets with someone from her past.

_ Thursday, 19 October, 20XX. 7:57 PM. Hexagon Nightclub, Hannam-dong, Seoul. _

“How did no one call and report this?”

Jennie looked over at Dr. Kim, who was squinting at a pill bottle on one of the only shelves that hadn’t been smashed to bits. She had to wonder the same thing, actually. This was just ridiculous—an entire crime scene, directly above the nightclub. No one had thought to come up here at all?

There was dried blood everywhere, the color of rust and clinging to the walls, the furniture, the floor, everything. A bed in the corner had been torn apart with feathers and stuffing and springs spilling from the mattress. Delicately placed shelves and a vanity lay in ruins, with shards of glass in a bloody puddle on the floor. Both windows, flanked by curtains that had been ripped from the suspension rods, were shattered, and glass dripped from the broken panels. 

“Our boss… we don’t see him often,” Joy defended tentatively from the corner of the room. “He’s.. not a very good person. We’re not allowed to go up here unless we get a direct invitation from him, and most of the time he’s not even here. I’ve only seen him in person once.”

“When was the last time any of you saw him?” 

“I saw him the afternoon of October… fifth? Sixth? A couple days before the tenth.” The blue haired man, second from the left, spoke for the first time all night. “I didn’t talk to him or anything, I don’t even think he saw me—but I saw him going to his car right before opening time.”

“What kind of car?”

“Hyundai. It’s black and small; I don’t know the year or the model, though.”

“What’s his name?”

“Ga Chanyong.”

“Age?”

“Um..” Joy looked at her coworkers, who were all lined up next to her. All of them shook their heads or shrugged. “We don’t know. Middle aged, maybe? He’s not super old, but he’s not a young guy either. Most of us have only seen him once or twice.”

“He’s like a ghost,” Chungha supplied. “A haunting presence no one ever sees.”

“Who was working the bar the night of the 10th?” Lisa asked.

“Wendy. She went on vacation, though, and won’t be back until November.”

“What about the night of the 16th?”

“The night the body was found? Also Wendy. She left for vacation on the seventeenth.”

Jennie sighed in frustration—that made things more complicated. 

“Only Sanghyuk is allowed up here, right?” She asked, directing the question at anyone who would answer her.

“Yeah. We don’t see him very much, either. He goes up here at eight every Monday night and then vanishes. Except for Tuesday the 10th. I saw him run up to Wendy, yell something at her, and then sprint up the stairs.” The DJ—Taeyong—spoke up.

“I don’t think I saw him the last couple of Mondays, though,” The worker with pale blue hair spoke again thoughtfully. “I wasn’t really paying attention but he normally waves at me or something if he sees me. I think he stopped coming in like halfway through September.”

“What’s your name?” Jennie asked the blue haired man.

“Bang Chan.”

“Are you friends with Sanghyuk?”

“Uh, no... not really. He waves if he sees me and I’ve talked to him, like, twice, but he’s generally pretty friendly with everyone. Really nice guy. It’s a shame he’s not around more often. I sometimes see him hanging outside when I work Saturdays, but he doesn’t usually stick around.”

“Um,” The younger boy with black hair, wearing pink and red, slowly raised his hand. “I saw Jeongin and Jisung sneak up here when Wendy wasn’t at the bar. ”

That caught Jennie’s attention. It also surprised his coworkers.

“You did?”

“Why didn’t you stop them?”

“Before or after Sanghyuk ran up here?”

“Uh, I’m not sure. Maybe before. I kind of figured boss wanted them or something. I didn’t know if I should intervene, so I didn’t,” The boy said sheepishly. 

Jennie struggled to place a name on him—Hyunjin?—but she was distracted when she felt a presence next to her. Jennie turned to see Dr. Kim standing a little to her right. Her glasses had slipped down to the very edge of her nose, so she had her head tilted strangely to look at Jennie in the eyes. The doctor had on blue latex gloves and was holding out a roughly cut—and very bloody—thin, black heavy metal pipe.

“Murder weapon.” She said simply. “Blood on the pipe matches the blood of the victim. This blood is also what is coating the floor and furniture, but not all of it belongs to him. Chaeyoung found more DNA on the furniture and walls—fingerprints and blood—and semen on the sofa and the bed.”

Jennie helped the doctor place the pipe into an evidence bag, then she ran a hand through her hair, letting out a breath through her teeth.

“Um, do you need us for anything else?” Chungha asked as Jennie began to drift away from the club workers. Jennie sighed and gave her a sympathetic glance.

“I need you all to stay here. I’m sorry, this will probably be a long night for you. I’ll make sure your boss knows to pay you extra.” She said. 

The workers all relaxed a little, but most of them didn’t look happy at the idea of staying. She didn’t blame them. If she were in their position, she’d want to go home too.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Chaeyoung sounded frustrated as she approached Jennie. “The workers say there were only four people up here—the victim, Jeongin, Jisung, and Sanghyuk. The DNA proves that. But there’s even more DNA. Two more individual sets. Fingerprints and blood, each belonging to a different person.”

“Six individual sets of DNA in here, and six in and on the car? The DNA has to be the same, right? If this is where the victim was killed, then that makes the most sense.” Jennie said thoughtfully. “And don’t jump to conclusions yet. We don’t have identities for any of the DNA we found, including the victim. Just because Sanghyuk and Jeongin and Jisung were up here at some point doesn’t necessarily mean they’re involved.”

Jennie wanted to ignore the idea of Sanghyuk being involved in this; she clung carefully to the fact that none of the DNA had been matched with an identity. For all they knew, Jisung or Jeongin could be the victim. She doubted it because the victim had been forty years old and very muscular, but six unique DNA sequences didn’t mean anything if they couldn’t be paired with a known identity. 

“I’m not saying any of them took part in this. But it does make the most sense if all six sets here are the same as the ones in the car, and it’s highly likely that is the case. However, that raises another question: how would the killers get the body get down the stairs and out the door without being seen? Given the damage the corpse sustained, it would have fallen apart even if they weren’t caught and made it impossible to carry. And if there are six sets of DNA and only three people were seen going up here, and the victim was supposedly already up here, how did the other two people get in? It can’t have been through the window, there’s nothing on the glass.” Chaeyoung demanded, her voice tense and tight. Jennie opened her mouth again to remind Chaeyoung that they didn’t have the identities of anyone who had supposedly been in the room.

“There’s a back door,” Chungha interrupted. “It leads to the dumpster area behind the nightclub. It’s mostly how boss enters and leaves the building.”

Jennie turned towards the blonde girl in surprise.

“Show me,” She ordered.

Jennie and Lisa followed Chungha to the leftmost corner of the room, which hid a door to a storage closet that had already been opened and inspected. The floor was bloody but everything else in the closet—clothes, shoes, boxes—had been untouched. Chungha shoved aside several articles of clothing hanging from the suspension rod against the left wall, revealing a heavy door with a passcode on the handle.

“Do you know the passcode?” Jennie asked. Chungha shook her head. Jennie turned towards the workers. “Any of you?”

All she got was a couple of murmurs of “no” and a few head shakes. She sighed.

“Sanghyuk might,” Chan offered. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen him, though. If you can find him and convince him to come in here he might be able to help.”

Jennie added that to her mental list of things to do. She inspected the door a little more before mentally going over everything she’d just learned. Sanghyuk was seen storming up the stairs on October 10, six days before the night the body was found. At some point before or after, however, two young workers named Jeongin and Jisung were seen going up the stairs as well. Two other people had also been in the room the night of the murder but were unseen by anyone working at the nightclub since they somehow got in through the secret door. Though they couldn’t confirm Sanghyuk, Jeongin, Jisung, or the two other people as the killers or even as the victim of the crime because they didn’t have any matches to any of the DNA found in either the car or the bedroom. Wendy, who was working the bar both on the 10th and the 16th, was on vacation and therefore out of commission. The only murder weapon they had found was a bloodied pipe, but DNA suggested that four or five people took part in the victim’s murder. None of the workers knew their boss well enough at all to be able to describe or identify his face, and the boss was still nowhere to be seen. 

Something struck Jennie then, and she turned around to face Chaeyoung, who was inspecting the murder weapon with Jisoo. 

“Chaeyoung,” She called. Said doctor looked up, red hair swishing over her shoulder. “Is it possible the victim is Ga Chanyong?”

Joy gasped, and Taeyong’s mouth dropped. Hyunjin and Chan shared a wide-eyed look. Chaeyoung stared at her blankly, but Jennie knew the cogs in her brain were turning quickly. Jisoo cocked her head, also deep in thought as she stared at the wall.

“It’s entirely possible that is the case,” Lisa replied before either doctor could say anything. “But we won’t know until we can get his DNA sample.”

“Not exactly,” Chaeyoung shook her head, held her hand up. “Assuming this is his room, all we need to do is find something that undoubtedly belongs to him. Then we can compare the DNA on that object to the body.”

“He keeps a picture of someone in the drawer next to his bed.” Chungha spoke up again. Jennie was beginning to thank whatever God she didn’t believe in for this woman. “I don’t know who’s in the picture but I know he picks up and touches the frame a lot. I mean, I’ve seen him holding it.” 

Chaeyoung snapped on a new pair of latex gloves before walking toward the bedside table—also sprayed with blood at some point—and opened the top drawer. She took out a small picture frame and dropped it into an evidence bag before handing it to Jennie to give it a closer inspection. A tall man with a scar across the left side of his neck stood in the center of the picture, with a tiny woman who looked at least twenty years younger than him on his right and a muscular man with beady eyes and a crooked smirk to his left. The men in the photo looked close in age, but the woman had to have been at least twenty years younger than both of them, with glossy black hair and a dainty smile that looked both sweet and menacing at the same time. She held up the picture to the workers.

“Do you—”

“No,” Chungha sighed. “I don’t know who they are. Sorry.”

She received similar answers from the others. Jennie decided to try her best to leave the workers alone for the rest of the night. They all seemed tired and understandably stressed—she gave them all a once over as she handed the evidence baggie to one of the forensic specialists, and noticed the dark bags under their eyes, the slouching of their postures, the exhaustion in their gazes. 

“Okay. We’re done questioning all of you. Unfortunately you can’t leave until we’re done here but if you want to go back downstairs I’ll make sure no one bothers you unless I authorize them to.” Jennie offered. 

The nightclub had been evacuated pretty much immediately after Jennie walked upstairs to inspect the bedroom, which would give the workers a chance to relax a little by themselves. Something about them told Jennie that most of them didn’t have very stable home lives—she worried a little bit about what might happen to them if the victim turned out to be Ga Chanyong. She opened her mouth to say something else, but Lisa’s voice distracted her.

“Hey, Jennie.”

She turned around, aware of the club workers leaving the room as she shifted her attention. Lisa was pointing to something in the very top right corner of the room. She squinted a little to see exactly what Lisa was pointing at, walking closer to her partner.

“Is that—”

“Security camera.”

Jennie’s mouth dropped open when she saw it.

The thing was tiny. It was round and black, definitely a camera, but almost undetectable due to its size and color—the smallness of the device and the deep blackness of the plastic covering allowed it to be easily cloaked by the shadows of the corner of the room. It looked like a miniscule version of the cameras found in various stores, but it was damaged—like someone had put a bullet through it.

“Check all the corners of the room, and the bathroom and the closet,” She ordered her officers as she walked closer to the camera Lisa was gesturing to. “Do you think we can get it down and look through footage?”

Lisa peered closer at the camera, shining a flashlight near it to illuminate the device enough to be seen. She shook her head. “If there’s a camera in here and more in the room, then there has to be a security room somewhere.”

Jennie had thought of that. While questioning Chungha and Joy earlier in the night, her eye had caught several security cameras. The ones in the nightclub and kitchen area were bigger than the cameras in the bedroom.

“There’s a camera in the closet here,” Yeonjun, one of her officers, called from inside the storage closet. “It looks the same as the one in there.”

“There’s one in the bathroom, too,” Soobin reported as he stepped back into the room. “Looks like a couple in the hallway as well.”

“Then there has to be a security room somewhere,” Lisa said firmly. “Maybe go ask the workers. They might know.”

As much as Jennie didn’t want to bother them again, she knew it was necessary. She nodded and stripped herself of the blue latex on her hands, throwing them in a small bag before leaving the room. 

The hallway was vacant except for Dr. Kim, who was sifting through what looked like bags of different blood samples. Her lips were pursed and her eyes were narrow, her glasses still balancing precariously on the tip of her nose—Jennie had to resist the urge to walk over and push them back up her nose. The glasses looked slightly ridiculous, if Jennie was being honest, and despite how adorable she thought Jisoo to be, she wished Jisoo would get new ones, or contacts. The lenses were thick—they enhanced the size of her eyes, causing her gaze to look owlish and piercing, but the problem was the frames were too thin. They were wires, barely holding up the huge lenses, and the number of times Jennie had walked in on Jisoo bending or flexing the wires to better fit her face was a little crazy.

“Can I help you, detective?”

Jennie jumped when Jisoo spoke, her voice betraying slight irritation. She stood from where she was bent over the tray of evidence bags and turned towards Jennie expectantly. She reached up to push her glasses up her nose with one finger, enlarging her eyes as the lenses slid in front of them. Jennie fought back a sigh of relief—she felt a certain degree of comfort looking into those huge mousy eyes. Jisoo’s irises were the color of milk chocolate. Jennie thought they were beautiful.

“U-um, what?” Jennie shook her head. “No, I’m okay. On my way to question the workers again. Poor things. What—uh, what are you doing?”

“Separating blood samples. One of them definitely belongs to the victim but you won’t know about the other five until we pair them with the DNA samples found in and around the car.” Jisoo sighed and bowed her head slightly. “I apologize I can’t be of more assistance with this case. I do know forensics, but not the way Chaeyoung does. I suppose I… spend too much time holed in my lab.”

“Jisoo, we really appreciate everything you’re able to do for us,” Jennie countered instantly, voice soft but firm. “You and Chaeyoung are an incredible team, but only you can dissect a 6-day old destroyed corpse and determine tiny things like sexual activity and drug use, all in less than—what? Two hours? I.. I don’t say this very often, not as much as I probably should, but I feel very lucky that I have you on my team, in my premises.”

She really had no idea what possessed her to do what she did next, but she pushed a lock of Jisoo’s hair—God, it was so soft—behind her ear. She tried to ignore the heat she felt rising to her cheeks.

“Uh,” She said, eloquently. “Do you, um—would you like to get dinner with me this weekend?”

Jisoo blinked in surprise. 

“I’d like that,” She said, voice cool and smooth. 

“Great!” Jennie felt something blossom in her chest, but wasn’t able to identify the feeling, and took a step back. “I’ll, ah, I’ll text you the details, alright? Does Sunday work?”

“Unless something comes up, yes, it should,” A tiny smile graces Jisoo’s lips and as it did, whatever Jennie was feeling in her chest also grew. 

“Awesome,” Jennie said, a genuine grin creeping onto her lips. “Okay, I’ll let you get back to it.”

“Okay.”

Jisoo turned back to the evidence bags and Jennie hurried towards the stairs, giving herself a silent pat on the back and a gentle fist bump.

* * *

_ Friday, 20 October, 20XX. 10:49 AM. Asan Medical Center, Pungnap-dong, Seoul. _

“A-appa?”

Kihyun jumped, nearly throwing his book in shock when a cold hand touched his right arm, resting on Chaemin’s bed. Whirling around, he met Chaemin’s big brown eyes, watching him with exhaustion and a childlike curiosity that he loved to see. He closed his book and set it on the floor before turning his body to face her fully, taking her left hand. Her hands and arms were still freezing, but the coldness was nowhere near how they’d felt when she was limply draped over his lap in the backseat of their Lexus, breathing shallowly and barely conscious not even three days prior. He gave her what he hoped was a smile that looked calm and sweet, and not as afraid as he still was, before beginning to rub up and down her left arm, trying to restore some warmth.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” He said softly, and reached up to smooth her hair back. Her black hair was greasy and a little smelly, but he didn’t care—she was awake, looking at him, talking to him, and that was all he cared about. 

Chaemin opened her mouth to talk but the second she did so, her chest heaved in a rough cough. Kihyun hurriedly pressed the call button on the control panel of the bed before turning his attention back to her, soothing her through the coughing fit. Her voice sounded wrecked, and Kihyun miserably assumed that was because of having her stomach pumped.

She’d just begun to breathe normally when a nurse slunk into the room and began fiddling with the medical materials, taking her vitals. Kihyun didn’t let Chaemin look at any of it, lest she start to panic, only talked to her quietly and made sure she kept eye contact with him to know that she was okay, that he was there, and he wasn’t going anywhere. 

The night before, Kihyun and Hyunwoo had been briefed by the doctor who tended to her about what they’d done to save her. After pumping her stomach they’d given her a small dose of naloxone to reverse the effects of the opioids. She’d gotten treatment at the perfect time, not a moment too soon, and would be okay.

“Where—” Chaemin tried, but her voice was absolutely shot. She swallowed, wincing. 

“Don’t try to talk, sweetheart,” The nurse glanced at the little girl and gently patted her shoulder. “Your throat will be irritated for a little bit, but other than that, everything looks okay. You had a scare, didn’t you? Don’t worry now, honey, you’ll be alright.”

The words were comforting to both Chaemin and Kihyun. The little girl visibly relaxed a little, her eyes flicking back to Kihyun. She was trying to ask him something, Kihyun could tell, so he fished his phone—which was almost dead—out of his back pocket, intending to let her use it to type out what she needed. However, there was a text from Hyunwoo on the lockscreen.

_On my way back with your phone charger and clothes. Are you hungry? How’s Chae?_

He’d added a heart emoji to the text. Kihyun grinned a little before typing a reply.

_Not hungry. Chae is awake, she’s okay. Can’t really talk. She’s probably not hungry either._

He unlocked his phone and handed it to the girl, who struggled a little to hold the big device in her shaky hands but eventually typed out a message to Hyunwoo. She handed the phone back to Kihyun with an eye smile. She still had a breathing mask on—the doctors had put it on her to help her breathe after a small respiratory attack—but nonetheless tried to communicate through hand gestures and body movements Kihyun didn’t quite understand. He grinned when he read the message she’d sent to Hyunwoo.

 _Hi daddy im fine i miss you_

A second later Hyunwoo responded.

 _Hi angel. I miss you too. I’ll be there really soon, okay? I brought Kuri with me. Hang in there._

Another heart emoji was tacked on at the end. Kihyun showed Chaemin the response, giggling when the little girl grinned. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the nurse flash a small smile at him before leaving the room, leaving the two by themselves. Kihyun set his phone down before leaning forward on the bed, rhythmically stroking her hair.

“Appa is so sorry this happened to you, _nae sarang,_ ” Kihyun mumbled. 

She didn’t say anything—not that he expected her to. She just looked at him with big dark eyes—she had Hyunwoo's eyes—and watched his every movement. He’d been so wrapped up in whether or not she’d be okay that he hadn’t really thought about how she must have taken this. She must have been so scared, confused—she was only eight, she was so young. She didn’t deserve any of this. 

She never deserved any of this.

He opened his mouth to say something else but was interrupted by the door opening. Hyunwoo poked his head in, looking like he hadn’t slept in days, but when he made eye contact with Chaemin, his face split into the widest smile Kihyun had seen in a while. Chaemin stretched her arms out to him and Hyunwoo crossed the room in a heartbeat. His left hand was clutching a bag with several things in it—clothing, a charger, hopefully some coffee—and in his right hand was Chaemin’s stuffed sloth, Kuri. Chaemin eagerly grasped at the plush before reaching out to Hyunwoo. He kissed her hand, then bent forward and kissed her forehead. 

“Here,” Hyunwoo reached into the bag and pulled out the portable charger Kihyun had asked him to bring, and a change of clothes. Kihyun smiled at him and stood, having every intent to change out of the clothes he’d been stuck in since the previous morning. As he passed Hyunwoo he pressed his lips to the taller man’s temple then took the charger and the clothing.

When he returned to the room in blissfully fresh clothing, Hyunwoo was talking to Chaemin, who seemed fully immersed in whatever he was talking about, Kuri snuggled between her arms. As Kihyun plugged his phone in, he caught wind of what Hyunwoo was saying—he was telling a story, something about a brave little girl and her faithful companion, a quick sloth by the name of Kami. Together the girl and her sloth friend went around and fought the evil of the world. Kihyun listened to the story just as intently as Chaemin. 

When Hyunwoo ended the story, Chaemin applauded loudly. Hyunwoo and Kihyun grinned at each other. Chaemin’s hands found the mask over her face and tugged at it, but Kihyun was quick to gently move her hands away. She fidgeted a little, glancing at him with clear frustration in her gaze. He gave her a sympathetic smile—the mask probably was uncomfortable, scratching at her face and inhibiting her from talking. He imagined if he were in her position, he’d want it off too.

A sharp knock pulled Kihyun’s attention to the door, then the doctor from the previous night stepped into the room with a warm smile. 

“Good morning,” The doctor—Dr. Song, the nametag supplied—said cheerily. Kihyun and Hyunwoo nodded in greeting back to him, and Chaemin waved. “How are you feeling today, honey?”

Chaemin held a thumbs up out, then tilted the thumb slightly sideways. Dr. Song nodded sagely.

“You’re still feeling kinda weird, huh? That’s normal. If all of her vitals look alright, she should be set to go home later today,” He said. 

“Does she still need the mask?” Hyunwoo asked.

“If she’s breathing okay on her own, then probably not. The mask was just a precaution because she seemed to be having difficulty breathing last night after the procedure.” Dr. Song said. “Her throat may be a little irritated today and maybe tomorrow, and her voice may be a bit weak, but she’s recovering well.”

His gaze turned a little more serious and he looked full on at Kihyun, eyes slightly piercing.

“I do need to know where she got the Tramadol, however,” He said slowly. 

Kihyun had known this was coming. Of course they would be questioned about this. Kihyun too was at a loss for how it even happened—he’d told Minhyuk the truth. After learning of what exactly was found in his baby’s system the previous night, Kihyun had sworn up and down to Minhyuk in a fit of tears that there were no narcotics in their household at all. Minhyuk had held him, mumbling “I know” over and over until Kihyun managed to calm himself down. 

“We don’t know,” Kihyun said honestly. “We truly don’t. Neither of us take any pain medication on a regular basis—especially not Tramadol. The only painkiller we have in our house is aspirin.”

Dr. Song scratched his head and nodded. “I believe you; was looking through both of your patient records earlier. Neither of you have ever been prescribed any kind of narcotic at all. Is this correct?”

Hyunwoo and Kihyun nodded.

“Has she gone over to any friend’s house recently? Been given any snacks by someone she doesn’t know well?”

Kihyun wracked his brain, but he couldn’t come up with anything. He shared a lost look with Hyunwoo, who looked equally as distressed. 

“We—um,” Kihyun cleared his throat. “I—”

Chaemin moved suddenly, bringing everyone’s attention to her. She was waving her arms, trying to get someone’s attention, then pointed to her mask. Dr. Song swiftly moved to remove it from her face, and she took a long breath in once it was gone. There were lines from the plastic and the straps on her face and around her mouth, but she had her attention on the doctor.

“My friend Joohwi had a birthday,” She said, her voice still painfully scratchy and rough. Kihyun cringed a little at the grating sound. “His mom brought cookies for the class.”

“Did she distribute them to everyone?” Kihyun asked, alarm crashing over him like a tidal wave. 

“Yeah.”

“Did your baggie have your name on it?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you still have the bag of cookies?”

Chaemin nodded.

“Where is it?”

“In my backpack.”

Kihyun was beginning to feel his heart race. She hadn’t mentioned anything about a bag of cookies or a birthday at all—this was the first time he was hearing about it. He shared a horrified look with Hyunwoo.

“How many did you have?”

“Three and a half.”

“How many were in the bag?”

“Four.”

* * *

_ Friday, 20 October, 20XX. 5:34 PM. Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, Sajik-dong, Seoul. _

Jisoo’s eyes narrowed as she inspected the half of the sugar cookie that was left in the bag. Outwardly there didn’t appear to be anything wrong with it—but of course there wouldn’t be. The little girl’s name was scrawled in sharpie on the Ziploc bag—Son Chaemin—and as she said she had, she’d eaten three and a half out of four cookies. And all four had apparently been laced with Tramadol.

“The cookies were laced,” Jisoo confirmed, turning to where Jiyong stood in the corner of her lab. “Tramadol. All of them, I’m guessing.”

He sighed and put his head in his hands. In all honesty, Jisoo felt guiltily grateful it was only him and Jennie in the room with her. If the girl’s parents had been in here, she didn’t know if she’d be able to talk to them. They’d looked tense and tired when she talked to them on Wednesday, and after the smaller man—Kihyun?—had fallen to his knees in response to her revelation about their daughter’s ailment, she didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news to them ever again. When Jennie and Lisa returned from the hospital the same night with the news that the girl had overdosed on Tramadol, both detectives looked shaken and Jennie reported that she could hear the girl’s parents crying even through the closed hospital room door. Jisoo didn’t know if she could handle seeing that—or hearing it.

“She said she got them from a friend’s mother?” Jennie stated more than asked. Jisoo tried to ignore the way her chest leaped at the sound of Jennie’s smooth voice. Jiyong nodded and looked up. 

“Yes. Kihyun contacted Chaemin’s teacher and told her what had happened. Hopefully the teacher will do something. In the meantime, I’m probably going to interrogate the mother myself.”

“Jiyong-ssi…” Jennie warned.

“Wait, hold on.” Chaeyoung interrupted Jiyong, who had opened his mouth to say something. “The prints on this bag…”

She trailed off, peering closer at the test on the table in front of her. Curious, Jisoo drifted to stand at Chaeyoung’s side. After a few seconds of silence, Chaeyoung stood upright with a sharp intake of breath. 

“What? What is it?”

Jiyong’s question went unanswered as Jisoo moved Chaeyoung over to see for herself what the other doctor was looking at. There were two DNA sequences in front of her, one matching the sequence of Chaemin and the other without an identity. 

“Look,” Chaeyoung shoved a photo in Jisoo’s face. She recognized it as one of the DNA samples sequenced at the crime scene back in the nightclub and the car. All six DNA samples on the car had matched the ones in the bedroom above the club. Looking back and forth at the DNA in the photograph and the DNA on the plastic baggie, she noticed something.

They were the same sequence.

Whoever had poisoned the girl had been at the crime scene.

* * *

_ Saturday, 21 October, 20XX. 1:12 PM. Hexagon Nightclub, Hannam-dong, Seoul. _

“Good luck, Detective,” Lisa said, placing a walkie talkie in Jennie’s left hand after she parked the police cruiser in the nightclub parking lot. “You’re our only hope.”

“That’s dramatic,” Jennie reluctantly wrapped her hand around the walkie-talkie. 

“If anyone’s gonna get anything out of Sanghyuk, it’s gonna be you or Chaeyoung.”

Jennie sighed. Logically she knew Lisa was right—Sanghyuk only trusted Jennie and Chaeyoung enough to talk to them, and only them. But she hated the way Lisa talked about Sanghyuk. The things that had happened to him weren’t his fault. 

“Also, when you get back we’re gonna talk about romance strategies. How to wrap a girl around your little finger.”

Slightly caught off guard, Jennie turned sharply to look at Lisa. “Wh—what? Why?”

“For your date tomorrow night. Duh.”

Jennie flushed. She hadn’t known Lisa had heard her conversation with Jisoo on Thursday.

“Ah, you’re blushing!”

“Shut up,” Jennie grumbled, unbuckling her seatbelt and opening the door.

Lisa continued to sing about Jennie’s blush until Jennie shut the car door on her, and as she stormed away from the vehicle she could hear Lisa laughing. She rolled her eyes and willed her red cheeks to go away.

She walked around for a little bit, peeking down alleys and the shadows of the street. It seemed pretty deserted which she guessed was normal for the afternoon on a Saturday. She figured it probably wouldn’t get super busy until later that night, but she didn’t want to risk leaving now. Chan had told her the club was open all day during Saturday and Sunday, from 10 am until well into the late hours of the night, and that sometimes he saw Sanghyuk hanging around the area on Saturdays. She didn’t have anything to lose by coming to find him.

As she wandered aimlessly around the area, making circles and finding new shortcuts, her mind drifted to the tall doctor. Jennie had always liked her eyes, but staring into them so deeply on Thursday night gave Jennie a better impression of how beautiful they were. They were a unique mousy color, a lighter brown than she was used to seeing, with little flecks of a darker brown color, like chocolate. Of course, the glasses she wore made them look slightly cartoonish—but that wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t like she could help her bad eyesight.

She thought back to Jisoo’s hair, how smooth and soft it had felt between her fingers. She wanted to touch it again. Run her fingers through it, tangle it in her hands. The thought of touching Jisoo was a bit dizzying. Something about the strange doctor was just so ethereal, so ghostlike. Jennie wanted to be someone to her.

“Detective! What a lovely surprise.”

Jennie jumped, and whirled around to find the person she’d been looking for all afternoon. Sanghyuk stood a few feet behind her, black hair windblown and messy. He was dressed rather casually, wearing a black hoodie, a pair of jeans, and converse sneakers. Both of his hands were stuffed into his pockets.

“You’re not here to arrest me, are you?” He asked, a smirk in his tone. “I saw the cop car with your partner closer to the nightclub. I didn’t do anything.”

Jennie knew what Sanghyuk’s deal was—he dealt drugs. He mainly dealt hallucinogens, like LSD, but he also had some narcotics. Jennie knew this. He’d been on a police watchlist pretty much the entire time she’d worked in the SMPA, the better part of nearly nine years. She’d never seen him in action but she knew he did it because of the way he acted, the way he looked, the way he smelled. Miraculously, however, despite the number of times he’d been accused of drug abuse and dealing, there had never been enough cold hard evidence to put him in jail, regardless of the fact that most of the Seoul police force knew he was a dealer. In all the years she’d known him, both in college and as a cop, she’d come to learn that Sanghyuk was a devious escape artist and a skilled liar. He knew how to cover things up, how to get himself out of trouble, how to go anywhere and do anything and not leave a trace behind.

A tiny, dark side of Jennie hoped his skill would always save him. She didn’t know what she’d do if he ended up behind bars at her hands. He’d had five older brothers—his only living family, his only means of making it through college, and all of them had died in a horrific trainwreck nearly ten years before, forcing him into the world he lived in. She knew Sanghyuk wasn’t a bad person—he was damaged, and he was prickly and harsh to protect himself. In his world, she knew it was necessary. 

“No, I’m not arresting you.” She sighed. “I need your help.”

“My help?” His eyes widened comically. “What do I get out of it? You know, sweetie, my services aren’t free.”

“Shut up, Hyuk,” She growled, already frustrated. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Interrogation?” He asked, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Kind of.”

“No.”

“Sanghyuk—”

“I didn’t do anything. I’m not going anywhere.”

“No, I know. I’m not making you come with me. I just need to ask you some questions.”

“About..?”

“The night of October 10th.”

Sanghyuk blinked.

“What were you doing that night?” Jennie asked tentatively.

“This is interrogation.”

“Sanghyuk, please,” She sighed, ready to beg. “Someone’s been murdered, brutally. I need a lead. I need anything.”

Sanghyuk stayed quiet, watching Jennie carefully. His demeanor had changed drastically from when they initially started talking. She recognized his attitude now—he was getting defensive, as he had the last couple of times she’d been forced to go find him for questioning or arrest. 

“You were seen going into the upstairs half of the Hexagon Nightclub on Tuesday, October 10th. Two young workers by the names of Jeongin and Jisung were seen going up there too. We don’t know if they went up before or after you. Can you tell me anything about that?”

“I only wanted to protect them.”

Jennie’s heart skipped a beat in her chest. She hadn’t been expecting that at all.

“God, they’re so young. Too young. They didn’t deserve any of this, Jennie-noona.”

“Deserve what?” Jennie was upset now; Sanghyuk only ever called her ‘noona’ when he was truly opening up. “They didn’t deserve what? I know they work at the nightclub but no one has seen them since the tenth. Do you know where they are?”

“I don’t. I really don’t. I’m sorry. They disappeared.” He sounded genuinely sad.

“You know something else, Hyuk. I know you know something.”

“They were here on the night of the tenth. But then they vanished. I don’t know where they are now.”

“No one filed a missing person report for either of them.”

“That’s because they’re like me. They have no one. They have each other. And me. And..”

“And..?”

“And no one. Jeongin has Jisung, Jisung has Jeongin. I try to help them when they need it but there’s only so much I can do. There’s only so much they let me do.”

“What do you do to help them?”

“Buy them food. Water. The necessities. They won’t let me do anything else. They live in a ratty run-down apartment down the street—it’s actually more like a cave. They have a spring mattress, a quilt, a fridge, a toilet and sink that barely work and they have each other.”

“Do their coworkers know—”

“Of course they fucking know, it’s obvious. Jeongin and Jisung always look like they haven’t eaten in weeks, like they haven’t slept in days. Fuck, fuck, Jennie-noona—they’re kids. They’re just kids.”

Sanghyuk looked on the verge of breaking down. She dared to step forward and put a hand on his shoulder. The pain in his eyes was real, and raw, and cold.

“What else do you know about the night of the tenth?”

“Nothing.”

He’d said the word awfully quickly. Jennie narrowed her eyes and moved her hand from his shoulder.

“You’re a better liar than that.”

Something angry flashed in Sanghyuk’s gaze, and Jennie prepared to take a step back, sure he was about to hit her or otherwise try to hurt her. But the anger was gone as soon as it came, and he looked at her, defeated and hopeless.

“You really have no sign of them? Nothing?” He asked, voice trembling.

“The last time they were seen at all was on the tenth of October, going into the upstairs bedroom of the Hexagon Nightclub run by Ga Chanyong. That’s all we have for them. We don’t have any prints or blood or anything that could identify either of them.”

Sanghyuk pushed his thumb and index fingers into the corners of their eyes, a hoarse sob catching in his chest.

“I don’t know where they are.”

“Did you see two other people walking around or near the nightclub on the night of the tenth?”

“Two other people?”

“Were you in the nightclub on October 10th?”

Sanghyuk took a deep breath. “Yes.”

“What were you doing?”

“I was discussing something with Chanyong.”

“Discussing what?”

“Business.”

_“Sanghyuk.”_

“We were discussing the payment his workers get. I’m pissed because he only has, like, seven people running that stupid fucking building while he goes out and does whatever the hell he does during the day and those poor kids are trapped in there working for barely minimum wage. I hate Chanyong. He deserves to rot in hell for everything he’s done to those kids.”

Jennie grimaced. This conversation was not going the way she wanted it to go. She’d hoped Sanghyuk would cooperate this time around, but it seemed she’d given herself false hope.

“Did you see Jeongin or Jisung go up there? Were they already in the room when you talked to Chanyong?”

“No. I didn’t see either of them.”

Jennie sighed. This was a lost cause. If Sanghyuk was telling the truth then there was no reason to keep questioning him. She took a step back away from him, frustrated that she’d learned nothing aside from the fact that Jeongin and Jisung were still missing and Sanghyuk had tried to help them, to no avail.

“Okay, Sanghyuk. Okay.”

“Are we done?”

“Yes, so long as there’s nothing else you know that I don’t.”

“There isn’t. I swear.”

Jennie turned away without saying anything else, shoving her hands in the pockets of her jacket. 

“Please tell me if you find them,” Sanghyuk yelled at her back. “You know where I’ll be.”

Jennie didn’t answer him.

“How did it go? Did you find him?” Lisa asked as soon as Jennie slid back into the vehicle. Jennie sighed, long and loud, and Lisa’s lip curled. “I’m guessing it didn’t go so well.”

“He swore up and down he wasn’t in the building the night of the murder for any reason except to yell at Chanyong for treatment of his workers,” Jennie repeated, starting the car and pulling back out into the street. “He told me a little bit about Jeongin and Jisung. He said they’re still missing, they have a rundown apartment further down Hannam-dong, he tries to help them when he can but for whatever reason, they don’t really let him. They only have each other.”

“Jesus,” Lisa murmured, raking long fingers through her shiny ebony hair.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, I should tell you I got a call while you were out there talking to Sanghyuk,” Lisa said. “Yeonjun, the kid on our team—he and Beomgyu found a security room behind the DJ station. He said it didn’t look like anyone worked in that room, but that he could see footage from inside the bedroom, the bathroom, and the storage closet with the passcode-locked door.”

“That’s great news,” Jennie said, pleasantly surprised to hear this. “Do you wanna go through the footage or should I?”

“I can do it. I don’t know how much of it there is, but I’ll try to look at footage a few days before the night of the murder. See if anything major went down in there, if we can get an identity on anyone.”

“Awesome.”

And it was awesome. In fact, it was some of the best news Jennie had heard in regards to this case in a while. While she did kind of fear what Lisa was going to see on the footage, she knew that unless someone had disabled the camera in the bedroom, it would have captured the murder as it happened. As Jennie drove back to Sajik-dong, the silence turned from tense and grim to more comfortable, especially once Lisa turned the radio up a little bit. Thoughts of what Lisa had said earlier about romance drifted back into Jennie’s head, but instead of talking about it, she decided to turn it on Lisa.

“You should ask Chaeyoung out on a date,” Jennie said suddenly, only half teasing.

“Um, you aren’t in any position to give me romance advice,” Lisa shot back, an obvious smile in her tone as she turned to Jennie in mock surprise. 

Jennie grinned. “You heard me ask Jisoo out with your own ears on Thursday.”

“Jisoo has the social capabilities of a rock. She might not think it’s a date the way you think it is. You have to be upfront with her. Explicit. Clear in your intentions.”

Jennie snickered. Lisa wasn’t wrong, not really. Jisoo wasn’t a people person. She could read body language and tone of voice almost as well as Lisa could, but Jisoo was a bit emotionally stunted when it came to feelings.

“I have every intent of scoring a second date with her.”

“Look at you, Detective Hotshot.”

“If the date tomorrow goes well and we arrange a second one, then you have to ask out Chaeyoung. And I have to be there to assure it happened.”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying.”

“We have a deal, then?” Jennie playfully stuck her tongue out at Lisa, who burst into melodious laughter.

“What are you, twelve? Shut the fuck up and drive,” Lisa laughed, then reached over to turn up the radio.

* * *

_ Saturday, 21 October, 20XX. 8:53 PM. Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, Sajik-Dong, Seoul. _

Jennie looked up when her phone buzzed, almost vibrating the entire table. Flipping it over, she saw with dismay that it was almost dead, and Chaeyoung had sent her a text.

_I’m gonna call you please answer_

Before Jennie could type out a reply, the screen lit up with an incoming phone call, Chaeyoung’s contact name at the top of the screen. Jennie pressed the green button, then held the phone to her ear.

“Hey,” Jennie said casually. 

“Jennie.”

Jennie sat up a bit straighter. Chaeyoung sounded really serious, a little stressed, her voice laced with ice. Anxiety twisted in Jennie’s chest.

“You need to come to my lab right now.”

“Why? Chaeyoung, what’s the matter?”

“The last DNA set we found in the nightclub finally finished sequencing. It matches one of the sets in and around the car we found the body in. All six sets of DNA in the bedroom match the DNA found in the car. One of the sets matches with someone we already have in the system.”

“And…?”

“Sanghyuk. He was there. He was at the scene.”

Jennie’s head dropped onto the desk with a loud thunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next time:**  
>  Chaeyoung finds the identity of the corpse and another set of prints. Jennie and Jisoo go on their date. Kihyun and Hyunwoo's past starts to catch up to them. Chaemin just wants to stop feeling sick all the time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chaeyoung is trying her hardest to find identities for the prints. Jennie and Jisoo go on their date. Hyunwoo and Kihyun's past starts to catch up to them. Chaemin doesn't understand. Minhyuk is ready to lose it.

_ Saturday, 21 October, 20XX. 8:57 PM. Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, Sajik-dong, Seoul. _

“His prints came from the floor, the door handle to the bedroom, the storage closet, and the back door with a passcode. We also picked them up on the dashboard of the car, the passenger door handle, the right door handle, and the passenger glove compartment, but when I sent someone back to go check the car out again he said he didn’t find anything, including new prints. As soon as his DNA was done sequencing I ran them through the system, and pretty much immediately it made a hit on the national database.”

Jennie held her head in her hands. 

“It gets worse, Jennie.” Chaeyoung’s usually strong voice was tight and frustrated. “I ran the prints on the picture frame we found in Ga Chanyong’s bedside table. It’s the corpse. The murdered man is Ga Chanyong.”

Sanghyuk had lied to her. He’d lied about everything, and now that she had proof he was there on the night of the murder of a man he hated, she was forced to go and get him and bring him in. Why did he have to make this so complicated? 

“I found other prints on the picture frame too, and ran them. This is crazy, Jennie. The other set of prints on the picture frame belong to the same person who poisoned Chaemin.”

Jennie could feel a raging headache coming on. Not only had Sanghyuk lied to her about everything, making the situation so much harder, but there was a specific set of prints found at the car that kept coming up again and again—found in the bedroom, on the cookie bag, on the picture frame. All four samples of the DNA had been run through the entire national database and not one match had been made. 

“What do we know about the victim, aside from what Jisoo already determined?”

“Well, he’s not the one who poisoned the little girl. And I’d be willing to bet he’s one of the men in this picture frame,” Chaeyoung said icily, holding up the bagged picture Jennie had dug out of the bedside table in the nightclub. 

The three people in the picture all looked rather threatening, despite the easy smiles and relaxed postures they all bore. The woman in particular seemed more dangerous than she appeared—she was smiling, but the gaze in her eyes was icy and cat-like. She and the man in the middle were both ridiculously short compared to the man on the far left side of the frame, who was stupidly muscular and tall. The man in the middle looked to be around his mid-to-late-thirties, clad in all black, and one of his eyes was milky and stared without seeing.

 _Blind,_ Jennie concluded. _In one eye._

“This case would be so easy to solve if we had any identities for any of these fingerprints or blood samples, Jennie,” Chaeyoung held the palm of her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. “This murder wasn’t planned out at all—there’s DNA everywhere. If this was a thought-out murder, then something went wrong.”

“We don’t have any proof that the man was killed by any of the people in the room.”

“We do.”

A new voice—Jisoo, Jennie thought dreamily—sounded from the doorway.

“A certain set of prints was found on a metal pipe in the room. The pipe has the victim’s blood on it. The fingerprints on the pipe match another set of prints found on the exterior of the station wagon. We do not have an identity for this specific print but we determined that whoever it is is female.”

“Okay,” Jennie said slowly, rubbing her temple. “So, remind me of what we have so far?”

“Six sets.” Chaeyoung held up six fingers. “One set is the victim, Ga Chanyong. Another is Sanghyuk. The third and fourth sets are only found in the bedroom and on the station wagon. The semen found in the bed matches the third set of DNA, and some blood picked up off the floor also matches the fourth set. The fifth set is female; found on the pipe, in the bedroom, on the car. The sixth.. We found those prints on the bag of cookies, on the picture frame, in the bedroom, and on the car.”

Jennie wished she’d brought something to write that down on. Honestly, Jennie was entirely exhausted. She was still so angry at Sanghyuk for lying to her, she didn’t know what to do. She’d need to mobilize her team at some point and arrest him. She was just so tired; she’d been awake for days now, only sleeping when she found time. She rubbed at her eyes, hoping to push down some of the tears she felt simmering threateningly underneath. It was rare she’d ever get this worked up about a case, but now that it included someone who was more or less important to her, she was afraid. She was afraid of how it would turn out, she was afraid of what it meant for Sanghyuk, she was terrified for the other four people involved. 

“Jennie.” 

Jennie looked up. Chaeyoung was a few steps ahead of her, gazing sympathetically up into Jennie’s eyes. Chaeyoung was tiny, but she was powerful and strong—she never ceased to amaze Jennie. Neither of the doctors did.

“Go home, Jennie.” Chaeyoung said softly. “You’re exhausted. I’m not a physician but I know someone who’s overworked when I see them. Take tomorrow off, or something. Just relax.”

Jennie wanted to argue, but she knew Chaeyoung was right. A glance at Jisoo, still standing in the doorway, told Jennie that the other doctor felt the same—she was staring at Jennie with something akin to worry in her owlish eyes. She blinked at Jennie, then nodded gently, expression unreadable.

“Okay,” Jennie sighed. “If Lisa—”

“I’ll tell her. Just go.”

Jennie breathed a thank you, to which Chaeyoung just waved off and turned back to her microscope. Jisoo stepped aside as Jennie approached the doorway. Jennie gave her a wan smile—it was all she could muster at this point.

“Detective,” Jisoo whispered as Jennie tried to slide past the doctor. Jennie froze.

Jisoo was shorter than Jennie, but not by much. Jennie was only about five-foot-ten, while Jisoo stood at five-foot-nine and a half. Jennie didn’t get a chance to turn to the doctor and ask what she needed before she felt a pair of soft lips on her cheekbone. Heat exploded in Jennie’s face.

“I look forward to tomorrow night,” Jisoo mumbled, then briskly walked into the lab.

Jennie walked away from Chaeyoung’s laboratory with the goofiest smile on her face.

* * *

_ Saturday, 21 October 20XX. 11:54 PM. Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, Sajik-dong, Seoul. _

Chaeyoung rubbed at her eyes, which were sore and tight and blurry from hours of looking at a screen. Her neck and back were starting to ache. She massaged at a knot in her shoulder, vaguely wishing for Lisa to be there. Lisa was notorious for giving great massages—she spent a lot of time working out, and knew about taking care of her muscles. Chaeyoung was a doctor, but not that kind of doctor. She smirked to herself.

The idea of Lisa’s hands on her was electrifying for a reason Chaeyoung couldn’t really articulate. She was drawn to the muscular detective. She managed to find a perfect median between being masculine and feminine, a beautiful woman and a strong police officer, with long and delicate blonde hair and arm muscles that strained slightly against her shirt sleeves when she moved a certain way. And her chest and hips…

Chaeyoung leapt about a foot in the air when the door to her laboratory opened. Gasping, she whirled around to see the one and only Lalisa Manoban stroll into the lab, stretching a Herculean arm above her head. 

“Hey,” Lisa said casually. 

“Jesus Christ, detective,” Chaeyoung snapped, willing her cheeks to return to normal color and her heartbeat to slow to normal speed. “What the hell are you still doing here? It’s—”

“Almost midnight,” Lisa gave a lopsided grin. Chaeyoung’s eyes widened—was it truly that late? “I’m still here because you’re still here. I wanted to make sure you actually go home tonight. You and Jisoo are one in the same—if Jennie and I didn’t make you leave, you might both actually start living here.”

“I’m busy,” Chaeyoung tossed her hair over her shoulder, turning back to her computer.

“I know.” There was a loud thunk as Lisa sat down on Chaeyoung’s desk across the room. “That’s why I’m here. To pressure you. I won’t leave until you do.”

Chaeyoung glared at the detective, who smiled cheekily. “What are you going to do while I work?”

“I’m going to sit here and stare at you,” Lisa stuck her tongue out at her. Chaeyoung rolled her eyes. 

“Have fun.” She growled. 

“I plan to.”

It fell silent. Chaeyoung kept scrolling through the national database of fingerprints and identities, scanning and scanning random ones to see if she could find any match at all for the four unidentified sets of prints. She felt Lisa’s gaze on her back the entire time. Looking back on it now, she couldn’t believe she’d actually begun to find Lisa attractive—the detective was petulant and irritating. She was about to turn to Lisa and demand that she leave when her hand slipped and she clicked on another profile on the database. 

A photo popped up of a man in his mid-to-late thirties, maybe early forties. His eyes were closed and his skin was lank and white—she realized the photo had been taken posthumously. She glanced over his profile.

“Who’s this?” Lisa asked, her voice somewhere close to Chaeyoung’s ear. She jumped and swatted at the detective, who dodged her hand with a laugh.

“Shut up. I don’t know,” Chaeyoung sighed. “If you’ll let me look, maybe I could tell you.”

She scanned the man’s profile, but it was awfully vague. The database barely had any information on him—nothing about where he came from, his family, not even his age and birthday were confirmed. He’d died from a gunshot wound to the head. He must have been something of a ghost to the world, whoever he was.

She was about to exit out of the profile before something caught her eye. She peered closer at the screen.

**_Full name: Unknown.  
Alias: Unknown.  
Known crime lord. No given name or alias known. Gunshot wound to the left temporal bone. Killed on the night of July 2, 20XX._ **

“What the…”

The death of the man was a little over three years prior, but the last time his profile had been accessed was almost two weeks ago. Chaeyoung looked closely at his face. Something clicked in her head, and she whirled around to where Lisa was playing with a pen on her desk.

“Lisa. Over there, get the picture frame.” She ordered. Lisa looked up in surprise.

“What? Why?”

“Lalisa!”

Lisa scrambled to her feet, snatching the evidence bag containing the picture frame off the counter. Chaeyoung snapped on a pair of gloves as Lisa approached, then took the bag from the detective as Lisa looked over what was on the screen.

“Is this guy who I think he is?” She asked after a second, mouth open.

“I don’t know,” Chaeyoung mumbled; her heart began to race as she fumbled with the bag. “Maybe. Someone looked at this profile recently.”

“Chaeyoung, I think this is the crime lord that Kihyun and Hyunwoo killed three years ago,” Lisa spoke quickly, as though experiencing the same epiphany Chaeyoung had just gone through. “But there’s no name on him. How do we know?”

“We won’t, unless we call them in,” Chaeyoung finally got the picture out of the bag and moved her overhead desk light to look more closely at it. The man in the middle, with one blind eye, was still smiling blankly back at her, something menacing in between the lines on his face.

She held the picture up to the enlarged profile photo on the computer screen.

Chaeyoung gasped sharply. Lisa’s mouth dropped.

* * *

_ Sunday, 22 October, 20XX. 4:34 PM. Butcheli House, Hannam-dong, Seoul.  _

Jennie waited patiently outside the restaurant, shivering a little at the chilly breeze that drifted in between the buildings. She shifted from foot to foot, not quite used to the feeling of high heels. They weren’t very tall, but Jennie was so used to wearing running shoes and plain black boots that she couldn’t remember the last time she’d needed to put on a pair of heeled shoes. Looking down at her outfit, she wondered if what she had on was too fancy or not fancy enough. It was a long white and pink strapless gown with a sweetheart neckline and a slit up the right side of the fabric. Her shoes were white Lisa had even managed to wrangle Jennie’s hair into a braided bun at the base of her head.

“This is too much,” Jennie had complained upon seeing herself. 

“No, it’s perfect. You look stunning,” Lisa had retorted. 

Even though she was worried about being overdressed, Jennie had to agree—she liked the way the dress fit her, and if her hair wasn’t so impossible to deal with, she’d probably wear it up more often. Being in an outfit so pretty made Jennie feel beautiful, a feeling she hadn’t known in a while. 

She’d texted Jisoo the address and time of reservation earlier in the morning, and received a sweet ‘I’ll be there :)’ in response. The reservation had been set for four-forty-five, but Jennie arrived a little early to make sure nothing had gone wrong. She checked in with the hostess at the door and was told their table was ready when they were.

“Detective.”

Jennie turned. She felt like someone kicked her in the chest, knocked the wind out of her when she gazed at Jisoo.

She was in a short pink dress with one shoulder strap, and a brown belt around her thin waist. Her feet donned white heels a little taller than the ones on Jennie’s feet and for the first time since Jennie had met the doctor, Jisoo’s hair was down. It barely reached her shoulders and fell in soft curls to frame her face. She was still wearing her ridiculous glasses, but everything about Jisoo looked so beautiful Jennie couldn’t find it in herself to care.

“You look beautiful.”

The words left Jennie’s mouth before she had a chance to think. Jisoo’s cheeks turned pink.

“Th-thank you. You look wonderful yourself,” Jisoo said, stuttering a little. “I was concerned I would be overdressed.”

“You’re not. You’re gorgeous.” Jennie smiled. Jisoo returned the small smile. “Let’s go inside, shall we?”

Once seated, Jennie and Jisoo ordered a bottle of wine to share. The restaurant was busier than Jennie thought it might be for a Sunday night, but it wasn’t overly crowded, and their table was tucked in a small corner of the restaurant. The interior of the building was beautifully decorated, darkly lit, and rather small. A small candle rested in the center of the table.

It was quiet for a bit, maybe a little awkward. Jisoo was struggling a little with eye contact, but it didn’t bother Jennie too much. 

“I apologize I’m not very talkative. I… I’ve never really done this before,” Jisoo said quietly.

“It’s okay. I don’t do this very often either.” Jennie smiled, relaxing a little. “I’d ask you about what’s going on in your life, but if you’re like me, then the only exciting thing happening currently is this murder case. And, to be honest, I’d rather talk about anything else right now.”

Jisoo laughed, a bright, tinkling sound Jennie hadn’t heard before. She only ever saw Jennie in her work environment, when she was focused and cold and calculating, and had deliberately unreadable facial expressions and body language. Watching and hearing her laughter made Jisoo seem a bit more human to Jennie, like she was seeing a side of the doctor no one had bothered to try to find. Jennie grinned.

“Tell me about you,” Jennie said, leaning back into her chair a bit. 

“Like what?”

“Your family. Your hobbies. I don’t know.”

“Well, the majority of my family lives in Incheon.” Jisoo began. “My mother, my grandmother, and my two older siblings, Jiyeon and Junghoon. Junghoon actually lives in Gangnam, last I heard.”

“When were they born?”

“Junghoon was born on February 10th, 1992, and Jiyeon was born on August 6th, 1993.”

“Are they both still in college?”

“Yes and no. My sister attends Incheon National; studies business, I believe. She changes her major often. Junghoon is a carpenter apprentice in Gangnam.” Jisoo said. “After my father passed away, my grandmother moved in. It was very important to her that we all do what we want to do. She convinced my mother to let us choose our own paths. If she hadn’t, Junghoon would likely be unhappily stuck in some college somewhere. I suppose I have her to thank for my job now.”

Jennie hadn’t known Jisoo’s father had died. The information caught her slightly off guard. She’d never lost anyone important to her; even both sets of her grandparents were still alive. She also wasn’t expecting Jisoo to open up to her so easily or quickly—the collected pathologist had always struck Jennie as someone who was very private. 

“Do you live by yourself?” Jennie asked.

“I do,” Jisoo said, sipping a bit of the makgeolli their waiter had brought over at some point. “I live in an apartment in Itaewon-dong with my cat. Do you live alone?”

Jennie nodded, also taking a sip of wine. “I live in Dasan-dong, in Jung-gu. I don’t have any pets, though. I used to have fish, but my mom kept them when I moved away.”

“You live in Jung-gu? You live closer to the police department than I do,” Jisoo chuckled. 

Jennie shrugged. “It’s only like a forty-five minute commute, if traffic is light.”

Jisoo clicked her tongue. “I drive at least an hour to work and back.”

“That’s quite the commute.”

“It’s worth it. Do you have college experience?”

“No,” Jennie shook her head, still a little confused on what she meant by saying the long commute was ‘worth it.’ “I went right into the police academy after high school. That’s where I met Lisa.”

“Ah, I see.” Jisoo said thoughtfully. “Yes, I met Chaeyoung in college. We were often paired together for projects because we often fought for the top spots in our shared classes. I thought she was dreadfully pretentious, but after I spent more time with her, I learned to tolerate her. I’m sure she’d probably say the same thing about me.”

Jennie knew all of this already—Chaeyoung talked about college all the time, only speaking fondly of Jisoo when the tall doctor wasn’t present. But she let Jisoo keep talking, not wanting to make the doctor uncomfortable or fall quiet. She liked listening to Jisoo’s voice, anyway—the doctor could talk for hours and Jennie would be content to just sit and listen. 

“What do you do in your free time?” Jisoo asked.

Internally Jennie laughed bitterly. _Like I have free time,_ she thought with a sigh.

“Sometimes Lisa forces me to go to the gym with her,” Jennie explained. “Or lets me cat-sit her cats. I also like to paint. I do a lot of digital art. I haven’t had much time to do it lately but it usually helps me relax.”

Jisoo nodded sagely. “I feel the same about reading.”

“What do you read?”

“Anatomical and medical textbooks, mostly. But I do enjoy fiction and fantasy for recreational reading.” Jisoo looked up and met Jennie’s eyes. Her cheeks instantly darkened. Jennie grinned.

“What?” She asked. “Is there something on my face?”

“N-no, not at all,” Jisoo mumbled, the tips of her ears turning read. “Just.. your zygomatic arches. They are cute.”

Jennie tried not to let confusion cross her face. What the hell was a zygomatic arch?

Instead she just laughed.

“Thanks,” She giggled. Jisoo dissolved into laughter too.

The two were still giggling when their water brought food to the table.

* * *

_ Sunday, 22 October, 20XX. 6:52 PM. Han River, Seoul. _

“Ah, my mom says stuff like that all the time!”

“I guess our families have more in common than we thought,” Jisoo snickered. 

“I guess so.”

“It’s lovely out tonight,” Jisoo commented, looking out across the river. Jennie had to agree. The air was crisp and cool along the Han River, not cold enough to need a coat but definitely enough to warrant need of a sweater. Jennie was glad she’d thought ahead to bring a sweater, even if it didn’t really go with her dress. 

She looked down at Jisoo’s hand, hanging limply at her left side. She wondered if she should take it.

“It’s a shame neither of us live close enough to the Han. It really is a beautiful—”

She stopped talking as soon as Jennie slid her hand into hers. She turned to Jennie in shock, then looked at their intertwined hands, her cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink. 

“Is this okay?” Jennie asked, a little worried she made Jisoo uncomfortable.

“O-of course,” Jisoo stammered. “It’s—yes. I.. like it.”

Jennie smiled.

“Do you want ice cream?”

“It’s too cold for ice cream.”

“How about _bingsu_?”

“It’s too cold for _bingsu_!”

Their fingers stayed interlocked the rest of the night.

* * *

_ Monday, 23 October, 20XX. 9:18 AM. Son-Yoo House, Bogwang-dong, Yongsan-gu, Seoul. _

“Good morning, honey,” Kihyun’s voice from the kitchen caught Minhyuk’s attention. 

From his seat on the far right end of the sofa, he hung up his private phone call with Hoseok and turned to face the stairs, where Chaemin was slowly descending one step at a time. She rubbed at her eye with a fist, her other hand tightly clutching Kuri’s arm, the stuffed sloth hanging limply from her grip. She still didn’t look perfectly healthy, but Minhyuk was happy to see her skin had started to return to its usual color. It wasn’t completely back to normal, but any progress was still progress. As she got closer to the landing, Hyunwoo got down from where he sat at the table and crouched down, arms open. 

“You didn’t wake me up for school,” She said sleepily, reaching the last step and hurrying into Hyunwoo’s waiting arms.

“You aren’t going to school today,” Kihyun said easily. Chaemin’s eyes widened.

“I’m not?”

“No, baby. How are you feeling?”

Chaemin shrugged, but her pallor and posture gave away just how much this recovery was taking out of her. She’d been quieter than normal since she’d been discharged from the hospital—Chae had always been a quiescent child, never one to bother anyone, but the silence that used to be so normal about her was now unnerving and worrying. She always looked tired; she practically sagged into Hyunwoo’s body. Minhyuk’s heart hurt. She was too young to be feeling that way. She was too young to be as exhausted as she appeared. Minhyuk wanted to hit something. 

“Come here, baby. What do you want for breakfast?” 

Hyunwoo picked the little girl up and she instantly clung to him, nuzzling her face in the crook of his neck. She grabbed Kuri’s other limb, the sloth creating a link between her short arms. Chaemin mumbled something into Hyunwoo’s neck as he carried her into the kitchen where Kihyun leaned against the counter. 

“Come again?”

“I’m not hungry,” Chaemin lifted her face away from Hyunwoo’s neck.

Kihyun and Hyunwoo exchanged a glance that Chaemin missed—but Minhyuk saw it. He was sitting halfway across the room, but he could practically feel the emotions shared between the two. 

Chaemin straightened up in Hyunwoo’s arms and reached for Kihyun, who took her from Hyunwoo without hesitation, easily situating her on his hip. A few months ago, Minhyuk would have been surprised that they could still carry her. But now she was small, way smaller than she should be—she’d lost a lot of weight—and the task of holding her seemed easy to both Kihyun and Hyunwoo. She looked fragile, tiny, and breakable in Kihyun’s wiry arms. 

“We’re out of coffee,” Kihyun mumbled to Hyunwoo, resting his cheek on Chae’s hair. Hyunwoo’s brow furrowed.

“We are?” He looked at the coffee pot, which remained tragically empty. Kihyun nodded.

“We need to go to the store today. We’re almost out of paper towels and bread,” He said and began to sway rhythmically, rocking the little girl in his arms back and forth. “But I don’t think we should take her with us.”

“I can stay here and watch her,” Minhyuk volunteered without even thinking. Hyunwoo and Kihyun both turned to look at him.

“I thought you had work today,” Hyunwoo cocked his head. Minhyuk shook his.

“I… wanted to stay here today. You know, help you out. Watch Chae. You’re both tired.” Minhyuk said honestly. “Jiyong gave me today and tomorrow.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Minhyuk…”

“I wanted to,” Minhyuk said earnestly. “Heaven knows you need to rest after everything that's happened. Jiyong would agree with me. So. Would you like me to go to the store for you, with you, or stay here and watch Chae?”

Thirty minutes later, Chae laid down on the sofa with her head in Minhyuk’s lap after struggling through a bowl of cereal. She’d only made it halfway through the bowl before having to stop, her little stomach not ready for much more than that. Kuri was clenched between her arms as her eyes remained zeroed in on the cartoons on the iPad screen, propped up on the coffee table about ten inches away. Kihyun, dressed and gripping his car keys, bent over and kissed the crown of her head.

“Be good for your uncle, okay?” He said, ruffling her hair. She smiled at him and nodded. “Do you want anything from the store?”

“Strawberries,” Chaemin replied after a moment of thinking. “And blueberries.”

Kihyun nodded, smiling at her and then at Minhyuk before turning towards the front door. He tossed the Lexus keys to Hyunwoo, who waited by the door, and the two left after tossing smiles over their shoulders. Minhyuk waved at their backs until the front door closed.

Chaemin shifted in his lap, but kept her eyes trained on Pororo on her iPad. He tried to pay attention to the cartoon penguin as well, because he genuinely liked watching cartoons with children, but he found himself unable to focus, relaying everything that had happened over the past week.

A six day old body was found beaten to death in a station wagon behind a nightclub at one a.m. a week ago by Changkyun, and the very next day, Kihyun had called Minhyuk in a fit of panic and tears as he and Hyunwoo drove Chaemin to the hospital, where she’d had to have her stomach pumped of a dangerous narcotic that had been laced into a bag of treats. Initially, Minhyuk had believed something had happened with her heart—aortic stenosis made it hard for her to exercise and run around like a normal kid, and Minhyuk had thought she’d overwhelmed herself with too much physical stimulation. It quickly became obvious, however, that it wasn’t as simple as that—Kihyun had been an absolute mess over the phone. That was how Minhyuk knew the situation was so much worse than he believed it was.

Hyunwoo and Kihyun were teaching her self defense mechanisms they wanted her to know, but there wasn’t much they could do about her stamina or cardiovascular endurance. They could enhance her reaction time, teach her to defend herself, or how to properly use a firearm, but no matter what they taught her, outrunning some kind of enemy was probably not going to be something Chaemin could do, ever. Minhyuk felt it was a little unfair—God must be laughing—that Chaemin was born to the most widely known and dangerous pair of assassins in South Korea and had a heart defect that restricted her body’s abilities. No doctor she ever saw was convinced surgery was necessary. They kept her on medication and that was it. She’d suffered her entire tiny life. 

“Uncle Minhyuk?”

“Hm?” Minhyuk looked down at the little girl, who had rolled onto her back and was looking at him with big eyes. 

“Why did someone try to hurt me?”

Minhyuk was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to throw something. This wasn’t fair. No child should have to suffer like this. None of this was her fault—she didn’t deserve this. Minhyuk had heard a lot of people say that it was a mistake on Kihyun and Hyunwoo’s part, bringing a child into the world, but anyone who cared to know them on a personal level knew that having a baby was part of their plan together from day one. For everything Kihyun and Hyunwoo had done to protect the Korean public from the worst types of people, Minhyuk felt they deserved to at least have this. Kihyun and Hyunwoo had jumped through countless hurdles, fighting constant battles to raise their baby. But someone was trying to take her from them and she didn’t know why. It wasn’t her fault at all.

Minhyuk took a deep breath. In all honesty, he wasn’t really sure how much Kihyun and Hyunwoo had told her about what they used to do, what they’d been raised to do. He knew that Chaemin didn’t know they’d been trained their entire lives to kill people, but kids were easy to lie to. He didn’t know if he should answer this question at all, really. But she was looking at him with such innocent eyes—she didn’t know anything. Minhyuk kind of wanted to keep it that way. But he knew that wasn’t fair to her.

“Sometimes,” He began slowly, “people do bad things for no reason. In the past, your daddy and appa would… stop those people, in a sense. But while they did that, they met some other bad people. And now that your daddy and appa don’t work anymore, those bad people…”

He trailed off, struggling a little. He didn’t want to scare her.

“They want to hurt me?”

Minhyuk swallowed. 

“Your daddy and appa want to keep you safe and healthy,” He said, trying to stop his voice from shaking. She glanced away. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

Chaemin looked back at him. He took one of her hands.

“There are some people in this world who aren’t very good people. Daddy and Appa want to keep you safe. You’re the most important to them, and you always will be. Nothing that happened was your fault, honey.” 

He wished he could tell her everything would be fine. He really wished he could. But he couldn’t. He didn’t know if everything would be all right. 

Chae was quiet for a little bit after that, shifting her attention back to the characters on the iPad and moving it into her lap. Minhyuk’s mind went blank, turning to television static as he mindlessly stared at the cartoons—he wasn’t watching, but he wasn’t thinking, either. He was just existing, rhythmically soothing Chaemin’s hair back.

“Do you wanna play house with me?” Chaemin asked after a little while, her voice making him jump a bit. She turned her iPad off, sat up and looked at him, and the morning sunlight pouring in through the windows highlighted smudges on her glasses lenses.

“Sure, sweetheart,” Minhyuk said, smiling weakly. 

“Okay, you can be the grandpa. I’m the mom and Kuri is the daughter.”

“The _grandpa?”_ A real laugh bubbled in Minhyuk’s chest. Chaemin grinned. “Yah, I’m not that old!”

“Fine, you can be the dog,” She laughed. Minhyuk gaped, pretending to be offended.

“What will Kyu be if I’m the dog?” He asked her. 

She opened her mouth to reply, but the scurry of paws on hardwood distracted her, and Minhyuk glanced over her head to see the tiny corgi tumble down the stairs and bound towards where he and Chae were curled up on the couch corner. A happy laugh fell past her lips as Kyu leapt onto the sofa and settled himself in Chae’s lap, tongue lolling dopily.

“Kyu can be a cat,” Chaemin giggled, petting the dog’s soft fur. Kyu blinked back at her cluelessly, looking quite content to just sit in her lap and be pet. 

“ _Aish,_ Kyu doesn’t act like a cat!” Minhyuk felt a true grin pull at his lips. 

“Then _you_ can be the cat!”

_“Aish!”_

* * *

_Monday, 23 October, 20XX. 10:01 AM. Itaewon 1-dong, Yongsan-gu, Seoul._

“Okay, so… Chaemin wants strawberries and blueberries. We need coffee, paper towels, and bread.” Kihyun mumbled to himself, having just gotten off the phone with who Hyunwoo assumed was Hoseok as Hyunwoo parked their Lexus in the lot of the grocery store. “The doctor advised easy foods for her stomach until she starts feeling better, Jooheon mentioned he wanted peach flavored Ramune, I heard Hyungwon ask for Yakult, and Hoseok wants instant ramen. Hey, since when are we housing our entire team?”

Hyunwoo shrugged, tugging the keys from the ignition. “There isn’t much we can really do about it. You know trying to kick them out won’t work, once they get there. They’re all clever enough to make us let them stay.”

“We don’t have enough space for all of them.”

“They’ll figure something out. Everything that happened with Chaemin probably scared them.”

“It scared me, too.”

Hyunwoo and Kihyun stared at each other for a second, looking deeply into each other’s eyes. Hyunwoo saw a lot of things in Kihyun’s gaze—pain, anger, relief, worry. He recognized all of them because he was feeling the same way. He’d been feeling a mixture of all those emotions for the past week. He was exhausted, and he was positive Kihyun was too. It was at times like these Hyunwoo thanked his lucky stars that he and Kihyun had Minhyuk, Hoseok, Hyungwon, Changkyun and Jooheon. Their former teammates had done so much to help him and Kihyun he didn’t know how they’d ever repay them. He knew they cared about Chaemin as though she were their child—Hyunwoo didn’t doubt that to them, she probably felt like their daughter.

“She’s okay now.”

“Someone tried to kill her.”

The words hung in the air as soon as Kihyun said them. Hyunwoo bit his lip. He knew Kihyun was right. Someone had tried to kill Chaemin. The amount of Tramadol in her system was one or two normal doses for an adult, but in her tiny eight year old body—it caused enough damage. Someone had deliberately laced her snack with a drug that would harm her. Someone had tried to take his baby.

“But they didn’t.”

“But they tried!” Kihyun cried. “Hyunwoo, our baby is in danger. Someone who knows who she is, someone who knows who we are tried to get her. We have to pull her out of school. She isn’t safe—”

“Kihyun,” Hyunwoo silenced Kihyun with a kiss to his forehead, then pulled the smaller man to his chest. “I’m scared, too. But we need to wait for Jiyong to investigate the woman who left the cookies at her school. We won’t send her back until then, but we have to wait for Jiyong. He’ll find a way to help us.”

“I wish we didn’t have to rely so much on him.”

“He does it because he cares about us.”

“We left him and the agency alone for three years.”

“He told us to, Kihyun. Don’t you remember?” Hyunwoo pulled away to look Kihyun in the eyes. “The day after we killed Diablo. He called us, we explained what had happened, and then Chaemin ran into the room asking for Kyu. He looked at Chaemin and he just softened, Ki, don’t you remember that? He wanted us to quit. He asked us to do that. We didn’t just toss him aside, _yeobo.”_

Kihyun took a deep breath, then wiped at his eyes. 

“I’m sorry I’m so emotional right now.”

“You don’t have to apologize for being upset.”

“How are you doing? Tell me how you’re feeling.”

Hyunwoo paused. How was he doing? He’d been spending most of his time caring for Chaemin and Kihyun, he hadn’t really stopped to think about how he was taking this. He was scared. He was in shock. He desperately wished he could go back in time and fix things before they had a chance to start. 

“I’m sad,” He said slowly. “I’m scared. I’m.. angry. I just want Chae to be safe and healthy. I’m frustrated that we can’t do that, but I also understand that what happened wasn’t our fault. We didn’t have any way of knowing what would happen.”

“I think this week we should lay low. Let’s not go anywhere, keep Chae inside.”

“We should talk to her, too. I think she deserves to understand what’s happening.”

“But will she understand? She’s only eight.”

Kihyun had a point. Chae was so young. It only made Hyunwoo angier to think about her—if someone was trying to get to Hyunwoo and Kihyun, they’d obviously go through her, regardless of her age or health or innocence. Thinking about it made his blood boil. She was just a child. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know, Ki,” Hyunwoo sighed, running a hand down his face. “Here’s what we should do: we should wait for the detectives to come forward with anything new. We should also wait for Jiyong to do something, whether that’s mobilize a team or interrogate someone or something. But Jiyong isn’t the police—whatever he decides to do, he will need to run it by Detective Kim. I think we give it a week. We wait and see what happens. Can we do that?”

“Chae is my number one priority. I don’t want her leaving the house at all. If we sit and wait, she doesn’t go anywhere, and neither do we.” Kihyun said, looking Hyunwoo squarely in the face. Hyunwoo knew better than to argue—in fact, he agreed with Kihyun. He nodded easily.

“Deal.”

“We should probably buy more groceries while we’re here, then,” Kihyun said, a small smile splitting his face, the first real smile he’d seen in a little bit. Hyunwoo’s heart sighed at the sight of that smile.

All things considered, they made it through the store fairly quickly. Kihyun—always prepared, always one step ahead—had written down a list of the things Chae and their friends had asked for, and stuff that they needed, such as coffee, tea, paper towels, milk, and stir fry ingredients. Hyunwoo marveled at Kihyun’s ability to create a menu for the entire week off the top of his head and followed his husband through the store like a lovesick puppy. Kihyun was excellent at being quick and efficient, a side effect strengthened by years and years of professional assassination. By the time the couple made it to checkout, they had enough food and ingredients to probably last them a few weeks.

The grocery store run didn’t take nearly as long as Hyunwoo thought it would, but now they were sitting in frustrating traffic. A song Hyunwoo had definitely heard before was playing on the radio, but he couldn’t remember who sang it or what the song was called. He knew he’d heard it before, however.

“I know this song,” Kihyun sighed.

“Me too.” Hyunwoo chuckled. “I can’t remember for the life of me what it’s called or who sings it, though.”

“Do you think we know it because of Chae?”

“That’s a safe bet.”

“Maybe Minhyuk.”

“Also a safe assumption.”

Kihyun grinned. Hyunwoo listened more closely to the song.

“Wait, I think this is that one group..”

“There’s a lot of groups.”

“It has a ‘k’ in it.”

“....uh…”

“I-something. I… with a ‘k’ in there.”

_“iKon?”_

“Yeah, that sounds right!”

Kihyun laughed. “I think you’re right. I just wish I could tell you the name of the song.”

“I’m sure this is something Minhyuk has played for us.”

“Or Chae.”

“Probably Chae.”

“Probably.”

They spent the next twenty minutes in traffic, trying to figure out the name of the song that had played. Hyunwoo, however, was getting more irritated the longer he sat at a light.

“Why is traffic so bad today? It’s barely noon on a Monday. It isn’t even rush hour yet.” He sighed, raking a hand through his hair.

“Maybe there’s a light out up ahead,” Kihyun guessed. Hyunwoo grumbled. “Hey, calm down. Minhyuk is still with Chae, and soon enough our other friends will be there too. It isn’t the end of the world.”

“I know. I’m just tired.”

“Me too.”

Finally the traffic let up, and Hyunwoo was not even five minutes from the house before Kihyun said,

“Take a right.”

“Wh—”

“Hyunwoo!”

Hyunwoo hissed and yanked the wheel around, making a sharp right away from their neighborhood. 

“Kihyun, what—”

“I think we’re being followed.”

Hyunwoo’s heart dropped like a stone in his chest. He glanced in the rearview mirror. Behind their Lexus was a white Toyota corolla, and the driver was wearing sunglasses and a medical mask. He saw his or her hand tighten on the steering wheel.

“Shit,” He hissed. He made a sharp left to see if the car behind them would follow. Sure enough, when he glanced back in the mirror, the white corolla was still tailgating him. 

Both he and Kihyun yelled when the driver behind them sped up and slammed into the back of the Lexus. The airbags didn’t deploy, but the force of the hit was still enough to throw him and Kihyun forward. Thinking quickly, Hyunwoo stomped his foot onto the brake, and the corolla swerved violently to avoid fully crashing into them. While the corolla spun out of control, Hyunwoo floored the gas pedal, shooting off down the thankfully empty street. 

“Who is it?” He demanded.

“I don’t know,” Kihyun breathed, turning around in his seat to look out the back. “Shit. He’s following us again.” 

Hyunwoo swore again. The speed of the car was bordering illegal—he’d have to slow down at some point. He turned the car right, turning so sharply the motion nearly flung Kihyun onto his lap.

“Jesus, Hyunwoo,” Kihyun hissed, struggling to right himself.

“Sorry,” Hyunwoo bit his lip. 

A second later, the corolla skidded around the bend, and began gaining on them quickly. Hyunwoo glanced to his right; they were driving along the Han river. He’d been driving so hectically, twisting and turning through the streets of Itaewon-dong that he hadn’t realized he’d crossed over into Hannam-dong and gotten so close to the river. They were at least forty-five minutes from their house now that they were right on the edge of the river. Ideas for how they could get the corolla to slide into the water began flitting through his brain like a slideshow.

_**Bang!** _

A gunshot. The sideview mirror on the driver’s side of the car shattered. Kihyun yelped in shock.

“Fuck!”

Hyunwoo felt his blood freeze when he glanced back into the rearview mirror and saw the driver leaning out the driver’s window, a pistol aimed at the Lexus.

_**Bang!** _

“Kihyun, get someone on the phone, now,” Hyunwoo ordered. “Minhyuk, Hoseok, anyone—just call for help!”

Kihyun scrambled for his phone, fumbling with it a little before pressing a few times on the screen and then holding the device to his ear.

“Come on, come on, pick up…” He mumbled.

_**Bang!** _

The back windshield splintered, a bullet lodged into the glass. Reflexively, Hyunwoo jerked the wheel to the left, throwing Kihyun against the window. He dropped his phone, and Hyunwoo’s heart stopped as the sleek device slid under the passenger seat.

_“Ow!”_

“Sorry!”

Something Hyunwoo hadn’t seen in a while flashed in Kihyun’s eyes and Kihyun lunged for the glove compartment. Hyunwoo gasped when a fully loaded glock slid out of the compartment and into Kihyun’s hand. Trying to drive and watch the corolla and make sure Kihyun didn’t do something stupid was probably among the hardest things Hyunwoo had ever tried to do. And when had Kihyun put the gun in the glovebox? He’d been the one to get rid of most of their weapons—the last thing Hyunwoo expected was to find one of their firearms in the glove compartment.

Kihyun began rolling down his window, cocking the handgun. He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned fully around in his seat.

“Be careful,” Hyunwoo warned.

“I know what I’m doing,” Kihyun shot back. 

Hyunwoo didn’t doubt him—even if it had been a while since they’d been needed in action, Kihyun was known for being a genius with firearms, no matter how big or small. He wasn’t considered one of the best assassins in the country for no reason. Hyunwoo watched with one eye as Kihyun leaned slightly out the window and aimed the weapon at the corolla, eyes narrow, sharp, and focused. It had been a while since Hyunwoo had seen this side of Kihyun—it had been a long time since either of them had been in the line of duty. Despite the direness of the grim situation they were in, Hyunwoo would be lying if he said it didn’t feel good to be doing what they’d been raised to do.

_**Bang!** _

Hyunwoo couldn’t resist a flinch as Kihyun fired at the car. He missed, apparently, because he swore and ducked back into the car to cock the gun again. 

_“Hello? Kihyun? What’s going on?”_

Minhyuk’s slightly muffled voice floated from somewhere in the car—under the passenger seat, Hyunwoo realized with a groan. There was no way they’d be able to get the phone now. Hyunwoo was going almost 60 miles per hour in a 50 zone and if he didn’t get this person off their tail, he and Kihyun would either be killed or pulled over. Hyunwoo willed Kihyun to move faster.

_**Bang!** _

A deep thunk echoed from the backside of the car, and Hyunwoo realized whoever was shooting at them had shot the trunk. What the hell are they aiming for? He thought, irritated.

He held his breath when Kihyun leaned back out the window and aimed the glock, then looked back out the windshield and swore. There was a roadblock up ahead, with several construction workers waving frantically at him to stop. He’d have to turn left sharply to avoid it—Kihyun needed to act quickly.

“Kihyun!” He yelled. “Do something!”

_**Bang!** _

A loud _pop_ followed by the screeching of rubber tire on asphalt echoed the firing of Kihyun’s gun. Kihyun ducked back into the car and Hyunwoo looked up just in time to see the white corolla spin out of control, the front right tire having been blown out. He watched as the corolla swerved into a building, several horrified pedestrians leaping out of the way. 

_“Hyunwoo!”_

He jerked the wheel just in time to avoid the roadblock, skidding around the corner. He glanced behind the Lexus one more time and sighed in relief to see that the corolla was finally off their tails. Kihyun began rolling the window back up, buckled himself back in, and tucked the gun back into the glove compartment as Hyunwoo slowed the car back down to 45 miles per hour.

Neither of them said anything as Hyunwoo searched for a place to park the car. Once he did, he tucked the damaged Lexus into a small alley and parked, taking the keys out of the ignition and let his arm fall to lay on his thigh.

Hyunwoo and Kihyun sat in the car for a few minutes, both breathing heavily. Hyunwoo’s brain was still trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

“It’s been a while since I’ve done that,” Kihyun panted.

“You and me both. You’ve still got impressive aim, huh?”

“I missed the first shot,” Kihyun raked a hand through his windblown hair. “I never do that.”

“It’s been three years, give yourself a break,” Hyunwoo breathed. 

Hyunwoo glanced at the side mirror and winced. It was shattered, a black bullet tucked in the glass. A quick look at the rear windshield told him it was in similar condition—a bullet was the origin of cracks that webbed across the glass. He winced when he thought about what the state of the trunk must look like. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, still slightly out of breath.

Kihyun nodded, and opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by his cellphone ringtone. He instinctively reached for it, then sat back in his seat when he realized it had slipped under his seat and wasn’t accessible at the moment. He turned and raised one eyebrow at Hyunwoo, who smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry,” He said, trying not to laugh.

Kihyun snorted. “Take us home, please.”

“We’re on the Han River.”

“I know.”

“It’s gonna take at least half an hour to get home.”

“You’d better start driving, then.”

* * *

_Monday, 23 October 20XX. 6:36 PM. Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, Sajik-dong, Seoul._

“Hey, Jennie!”

Jennie looked up as Lisa burst into her office, then leaned over with her hands on her knees, panting. A few seconds later, Chaeyoung and Jisoo followed her inside, both at a much slower, more reasonable pace. Jennie leaned back into her chair.

“What?” She asked. Lisa was uncharacteristically out of breath.

“Kihyun and Hyunwoo just called. They said they were attacked on their way home from the grocery store,” Lisa reported. Jennie sat up a bit straighter. 

“Jeez,” She sighed, running a hand down her face. “If it’s not one thing, it’s another. That poor family doesn’t get a break, do they?”

“I guess not. I asked what happened, Kihyun told me they were followed almost to their neighborhood by a white Toyota corolla. Whoever was driving it rear-ended them once and shot at them a couple of times too.” 

“Did they get the license plate ID?”

“I asked; Kihyun said they didn’t get a chance to really look at it.”

“How did they get the car off their tail?”

“Kihyun told me he blew out the front right tire.”

“With..?”

“A gun, Jennie.” Lisa deadpanned. “They’re spies—well, they were. I asked Director Taeyeon if that was illegal, but it seems like they’re still legally allowed to own a couple of firearms. They technically aren’t civilians, after all.”

“What happened after that?”

“The corolla spun and crashed into a building. Director Taeyeon sent a team down to investigate the crash site, which is how we got the license plate number... There was no sign of the driver, but the car was totaled. I don’t know if they were able to get prints off the wheel or anything. The car is destroyed.”

“Sheesh.” Jennie sighed for the second time in five minutes. 

“There’s something else, Jennie,” Lisa’s voice turned more serious, and Jennie looked back at her face. “There was a message stuffed into one of the bullets. Kihyun sent it to us to see if there’s any prints, but the message is pretty intimidating.”

Lisa reached across the table to hand Jennie an evidence bag with a single slip of crumpled paper inside. Jennie had to bend the bag a little to see what was written on the tiny slip.

_**You killed him. I’ll get you.** _

Jennie whistled under her breath. “What the hell?”

“Yeah. Safe to say it kinda freaked them out a little,” Lisa said grimly. “Jiyong is just about ready to put them under witness protection or house arrest or something. I think this case is driving him a little bit crazy. Kihyun says none of them will be leaving the house for the rest of this week.”

“I don’t blame either of them,” Jennie handed the bag back to Lisa. “Any prints on the note? Blood in the car? Anything at all?”

Lisa shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Detective Manoban is correct; we were not able to pull any prints off the note, the wheel or other part of the car, and there was no weapon left behind. Witnesses say the driver jumped from the vehicle before it hit the building, then vanished.” Jisoo spoke up, pushing her glasses up her nose. “The driver was wearing sunglasses, a medical mask, and several layers of black clothing to fully hide their identity. If this has anything to do with the murder case, this person is obviously smarter than the killers. He or she effectively left no trace behind.”

Jennie bit her lip and stared up at the doctor. Jisoo stared back, then red blossomed in her cheeks and she glanced at the floor. Despite the grim situation, Jennie winked at her.

Chaeyoung wolf whistled and Lisa gasped. 

“Hey, woah, y’all, we’re still here. Is this gonna be a problem?” Lisa teased, leaning forward onto the desk. “Do we need to separate you two? There are kids here, you know.”

Jennie rolled her eyes. Jisoo colored even more.

“How did your date go? Did you arrange a second?” Chaeyoung grinned and poked Jisoo’s arm, giggling.

Jennie made a dramatic show of winking again at Jisoo, whose cheeks turned the shade of a cherry. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jisoo snapped. “You are antagonizing me. I do not appreciate it.”

Chaeyoung laughed harder, and Lisa joined her, rubbing fondly at Jisoo’s arm. Agitated, Jisoo batted at Lisa’s hand, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Jennie grinned.

* * *

_ Tuesday, 24 October, 20XX. 8:13 AM. Hexagon Nightclub, Hannam-dong, Seoul. _

Jennie tried not to let her anger be visible to her officers as she stepped out of the police cruiser, Lisa getting out on the other side. Three other cop cars pulled up around her, and the young officers on her team stood around, waiting for instruction.

“The person we are looking for is named Han Sanghyuk. He was last seen here on Saturday, October twenty-first.” She said sternly, almost having to shout to be heard over the wind that howled between the buildings of Hannam-dong. “If you find him, radio for backup. Search him if necessary—he might be armed. But do not kill or shoot at him. Clear?”

The officers stared back at her, six sets of eyes cold and ready for action.

“Alright. Get going.”

The officers disbanded, dispersing into the alleys of the area. 

“You okay?” 

Jennie glanced at Lisa, who was struggling to tie her hair up against the violent wind.

“I’m fine,” Jennie bit the inside of her cheek. “I’m angry it’s come to this. If he’d just told me the truth…”

“He’s involved in this murder somehow,” Lisa said, voice soft. “And he’s a good liar. He’s either doing it to protect himself or protect the other two boys, Jeongin and Jisung. Can you help me?”

Jennie snorted, but helped Lisa haphazardly shove her long black hair through a hair tie. 

“There,” Jennie said, tightening the ponytail. “It’s not pretty, but it’ll work. Now come on.”

Lisa followed Jennie into the maze of alleys.

They walked around a bit, maybe for ten minutes, without any sign of Sanghyuk. Jennie was starting to worry he’d vanished after she questioned him on Saturday. She wouldn’t blame him if he had, but she dearly hoped he hadn’t—she’d be forced to start a city-wide manhunt if she couldn’t find him. The thought made her head spin.

“Detective Kim, do you copy?”

A muffled voice echoed from the walkie talkie strapped to her waist. She recognized the voice as belonging to Beomgyu, one of the officers who’d gone to the nightclub with her the week prior.

“Copy,” She said, unhooking the walkie talkie and holding it to her mouth.

“We have eyes on Han Sanghyuk. Near the abandoned school.”

“Copy that. We’re on our way.”

She and Lisa instantly turned around and began running towards the school. The wind blew her hair into her eyes, making it hard to see, but she kept running anyway. She reached for the handgun on her hip as they neared the backside of the giant building, which was starting to wear away at the bottom from years of abandonment. Jennie figured this was the one building in Hannam that people tended to avoid like the plague.

She and Lisa rounded a corner and saw four out of six officers crowded around one of the back entrances to the school. All of them turned to Jennie and Lisa expectantly, waiting for further instruction.

“He went into the building through this door,” Beomgyu said, a hand on the glock on his belt.

Jennie nodded, stepping up towards the door. She and Lisa both drew their guns, and the other officers took it as initiative to do the same. She tried the handle of the door, but it didn’t budge. 

_Locked,_ She thought angrily. _Fine._

The door was old and rotting—all it took was one swift kick to force it open with a loud _bang._

The interior of the building was just as Jennie expected it to be—cold, dusty, barren. Most of the walls were beginning to crumble, as were the doors to each individual classroom. Layers of graffiti decorated the crumbling cement, and while most of the windows were still intact, the glass had started to wear thin and looked very fragile. The last Jennie had heard, someone was planning to tear this building down and put up something else. The school was only taking up space now, but it seemed like the perfect place to hide.

“Split up. Do _not_ fire on the target,” She reminded them under her breath “He’s needed alive.”

The clump of officers split up with a gesture from Jennie. Jennie walked gingerly through the halls of the school, trying not to shiver at the creepiness of the entire building. After all, someone had been killed here. Jennie had heard the story many times, but being in the actual setting where the ultimate crime boss had been taken down—it made her skin crawl, and something icy settled on her spine.

_“Detective!”_

One of the officers—Soobin—hissed from across the hallway. He and Lisa were standing side by side, both looking at her with wide eyes. Lisa jerked her head in the direction of a closed classroom door that had splintered with age. Jennie took slow, careful steps towards the door, and peaked through the broken wood. Someone with black hair dressed in a grey long sleeved shirt and black jeans was crouched over something, bent with their back towards Jennie. Sanghyuk.

She looked at Lisa and Soobin, who had been joined by a couple of other younger officers—Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun—and motioned with her head for them to follow her. They began moving slowly, and she lifted a shaky hand off her gun to silently open the door to the classroom before quietly stepping inside. 

They moved quietly enough that Sanghyuk didn’t move at all, remaining knelt over something on the floor. She waited until the other officers flanked her before she spoke.

“Han Sanghyuk. Freeze,” Jennie snapped, hand tightening around the handle of her gun. “Put your hands where I can see them.”

Sanghyuk visibly jumped at the sound of her voice, then relaxed when he realized who she was. He didn’t turn around, but sighed heavily, a long and drawn out sound that stirred further anger in Jennie’s stomach. He slowly lifted his hands into the air, standing upright.

“Detective...” He murmured.

“Don’t. You lied to me, Sanghyuk,” Jennie growled. “And now you’ve made this harder for all of us. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you.”

Jennie looked at Beomgyu and Yeonjun and gestured for them to cuff him. Sanghyuk stayed quiet as Yeonjun and Beomgyu approached him with handcuffs. After briefly searching Sanghyuk, three or four bags of what looked like either cocaine or some form of LSD tumbled from the insides of his jacket and hit the cement. He remained silent as Yeonjun cuffed him, then the two officers took either of his arms and started walking him towards the door. Sanghyuk didn’t make eye contact with Jennie as he passed her. He didn’t say anything, and neither did she. Lisa rested a comforting hand on her shoulder before reaching for her walkie talkie.

“All officers back to cruisers. Han Sanghyuk has been cuffed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Time:**  
>  Jennie interrogates Sanghyuk. Lisa goes through security footage. Kihyun and Hyunwoo come face to face with someone they never wanted to see again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennie interrogates Sanghyuk. Jennie and Jisoo grow closer. Kihyun and Hyunwoo see someone they never wanted to look at again. Lisa goes through security footage.

_ Tuesday, 24 October, 20XX. 12:06 PM. Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, Sajik-dong, Seoul. _

“Tell me your name.”

“You already know my name.”

Jennie clicked off the recorder with a sigh, and pinched the skin between her eyes. “Sanghyuk. Cooperate. Please.”

Sanghyuk rolled his eyes but nodded and sat up straighter. She turned the tape recorder back on.

“Your name, please.”

“Han Sanghyuk. I’m twenty-nine years old.”

“In the early morning hours of Monday, October 16th, a badly decomposed and destroyed body was found in a station wagon behind the Hexagon Nightclub in Hannam-dong, Seoul. The victim was confirmed to have died approximately six days before its discovery, the estimated time of death being around late afternoon on October tenth. The body has been confirmed to be Ga Chanyong, the owner of the nightclub. A second crime scene was discovered on the upper floor of the nightclub. Your DNA was found at both scenes. Blood and fingerprints, both inside the bedroom and on the station wagon behind the building.” Jennie murmured coldly. He looked at her unblinkingly. “You were at the crime scene when it occurred. We’ll start from the beginning first. Tell me everything you know about Jisung and Jeongin.”

“Yang Jeongin and Park Jisung. Jeongin is eighteen, Jisung is seventeen.” Sanghyuk began. “Both of them left home when they were around twelve, thirteen years old. They didn’t tell me much more than that but they went to go work for some shady guy. I don’t know who he was. They never told me.

“He treated them badly, apparently. They met another girl there, I can’t remember her name. Ryu… something. Anyway, this guy took the three of them under his wing but even if he didn’t treat them well, underpaid and overworked them, he provided them food and a place to stay, so they dealt with it. 

“Then he died. Killed in some accident; I guess he’d made a lot of enemies. His death kinda forced the disbandment of whatever group he was the head of, I guess, because the three of them were on their own after that.”

“How old were they at that point?”

“God—fourteen, fifteen? I don’t know. Young. Anyway, they came to this area and I met them. The girl, Ryu-something, she vanished, ran off with someone. Both of them were really bitter about that. So I decided to try to help them out a bit. I found the smallest, rattiest apartment in an old building and that’s where they’ve been living the past couple of years, paying rent with whatever they earn through their work. They don’t have much, just each other. And me. I think.”

“And they’ve been missing since October 10th.” Jennie stated.

Pain filled Sanghyuk’s eyes at the mention of their status. He nodded, biting his lip.

“Tell me what happened on October 10th.”

“W-well, first you need to know that they started working at the nightclub pretty much right after they met me.”

“They were fourteen and working at the nightclub?”

“Ga Chanyong.. He is—was a piece of sh—dirt. He was a real piece of work, probably the nastiest guy I ever knew. Angry all the time, violent, didn’t bother to pay his workers more than minimum wage. I’d say about eighty-percent of the time he wasn’t even there. You know, I don’t believe in Hell, but Christ do I think he’ll find his place there.”

“Several witness statements confirm that you go to the upstairs part of the nightclub every Monday night at around eight o’clock.” Jennie affirmed. “What do you do when you go up there?”

Sanghyuk was quiet for a minute, staring her down. Jennie knew what he did—of course she knew what he did. His fingerprints were found all over the bottles and bags of drugs inside the bedroom. But if she got it on tape, then it would be a confession within itself. He would be thrown in jail if he admitted to it.

“I dealt him drugs,” Sanghyuk said slowly. “I used to. I stopped recently.”

“Recently, as in…” Jennie struggled to suppress her surprise. She had fully expected Sanghyuk to lie.

“Early—mid September.”

“Why did you stop?”

“His uses for them were illegal.”

“Drugs are illegal.”

“Sorry—let me rephrase. His uses for the drugs went against _my_ personal morals. I stopped dealing him LSD and Tramadol because he used them on innocent people; to take advantage of them.”

“Both of those drugs were found in his system.”

“Yeah, he was addicted to LSD and Tramadol. He stole them from me after he started going through a withdrawal. Sent someone to break into my apartment; took five bottles of Tramadol and two bags of LSD.”

Jennie resisted the urge to put her head in her hands. Sanghyuk had dealt the man Tramadol and the man had stolen it too. Four half-full bottles of Tramadol had been found in his bedroom, so what happened to the last one?

“Let me ask you something. Yoo Kihyun, Son Hyunwoo, Son Chaemin. Do these names mean anything to you?”

Sanghyuk’s expression turned puzzled; his brows furrowed. 

“No,” He said slowly. “They don’t. Who are they?”

“Son Chaemin is the eight year old daughter of Yoo Kihyun and Son Hyunwoo. On Tuesday October seventeenth, her parents brought her to the hospital. She suffered a minor overdose on Tramadol. The drug had been laced into cookies given to her while in class.”

Horror twisted into Sanghyuk’s expression, his mouth falling open.

“I don’t know who she is,” He breathed. “I don’t know who any of those people are. How is this related to the murder?”

“First of all, Tramadol was found in the corpse’s system. Secondly, a set of prints was found on the bag of cookies. Those prints match a set of DNA found in both crime scenes. It wasn’t you, but one person at the scene is likely guilty for poisoning the little girl.”

The color drained from Sanghyuk’s face.

“Maybe you know who that person is?”

“I think I do. I think I know who it is. But I don’t know her name.”

Jennie’s heart sank.

“If you saw a picture of her would you recognize her?”

“Unless she did something, like, get plastic surgery, I think so.”

“You really don’t know her name?”

Sanghyuk shook his head. “I don’t. Jeongin and Jisung hate her, but I’ve only met her once and barely exchanged two words with her. I don’t know anything about who she is, what she does—Jeongin and Jisung never told me anything about her. I don’t know her at all.”

“So Jeongin and Jisung know who she is, but you don’t. You’re not lying to me?”

“I’m not, Jennie, I promise,” Desperation shone in Sanghyuk’s black eyes. “I know I lied before but I promise I don’t know who she is. I only know Jeongin and Jisung.”

“Describe her for me,” Jennie said.

“Uh… last I saw her, she was tallish, maybe around your height. She’s younger than me and you... Maybe twenty-three? Her hair was long and blonde. She wore grey contacts, so I don’t know her real eye color, but her face is like.. Round and long. Like an oval. She likes to wear pink. I think. I don’t know. I barely know her. But I don’t know if it was her. I can’t be sure at all.”

Jennie made mental notes of everything he’d said about the woman. “And the other girl, Ryu-something. Describe her.”

“Young. Kinda short, like Chaeyoung. I’ve only seen her once or twice, but both times her hair was styled the same, just dyed different colors. She didn’t have bangs and her hair kind of fell to her collarbone.”

“What color was it last time you saw her?”

“Pale pink, like at some point it had been bright but then faded.”

“Thank you.” Jennie brushed her hair from her eyes, then looked Sanghyuk squarely in the face. “Let’s try one more time. What happened on October 10th?”

“Jeongin and Jisung weren’t treated any better by Chanyong than they were by the guy they previously worked for—in fact, Chanyong treated them worse. And after I stopped providing Chanyong with drugs, he went off the deep end and started taking out his anger on his poor workers, mainly the two of them because they spend more than half their lives in that fucking building. Chanyong abused them, physically—he hit them, forced them to have sex with each other in front of him. On the night of the tenth I was going to talk to Wendy, the bartender, to see if she could do something about their shifts, because technically she’s second in command when Chanyong isn’t there, but when I approached the nightclub, even from outside I could I hear Jeongin screaming from the second floor—I didn’t even think. I ran into the nightclub and up into the room. He… Chanyong, he had pinned Jeongin on the floor… Jisung was handcuffed to the bed. They were screaming their little hearts out.”

“And then what happened?”

“I…”

Sanghyuk seemed unable to continue speaking. His face had lost all color, his mouth gaping like a fish out of water. He stared with glassy eyes at the table.

“I only wanted to keep them safe,” He whispered. “That’s all I wanted.”

“Did Jeongin and Jisung take place in the murder?”

A shake of the head was all she got in response. 

“Did you take place in the murder?”

She didn’t get an answer from him. Sanghyuk shut down after that. Jennie did everything—begged, bribed, threatened him. He didn’t say anything else, didn’t react in any way—only stared unblinkingly at the table. Jennie gave up.

“In light of your level of involvement in this entire crime, Sanghyuk, I strongly suggest you have a lawyer to represent you.” She sighed, thoroughly exhausted.

* * *

_ Tuesday, 24 October, 20XX. 5:48 PM. Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, Sajik-dong, Seoul. _

Jennie listened to Sanghyuk’s interview one more time, folded forward with her head down on her desk as the tape played back the entire interrogation. Based on the contents of the questioning, Jennie had proof to throw Sanghyuk in prison for illicit drug use and distribution, and she also had every reason to believe that Sanghyuk took place in the murder of Ga Chanyong. 

But with what, and with who? 

The metal pipe that had been found with the victim’s blood had fingerprints belonging to someone else. The two other murder weapons Jisoo had determined—a switchblade and a crowbar—had yet to be found. Four other unidentified DNA sets had been found in addition to the victim’s and Sanghyuk’s. After listening to the interview, Jisoo and Chaeyoung decided that two of the unidentified sets belonged to Jeongin and Jisung, but they didn’t know which was which. 

Whoever poisoned Chaemin was also at the scene of the crime, and maybe took role in the murder. Sanghyuk knew her, kind of, and probably so did Jeongin and Jisung. Chaeyoung had begun to call this unidentified woman Hong Gildong—just a placeholder name without any real meaning. Someone had drawn a rather strange drawing of her with the information Sanghyuk had given.

In addition to Sanghyuk, Jeongin, Jisung, the victim, and the woman dubbed Hong Gildong, there was one other. A female, young, and probably perfectly healthy. Her prints were found in the bedroom and on the car, and on the pipe used to kill Ga Chanyong. Jisoo had taken to calling this mystery girl Mwomwo. 

Chaeyoung still didn’t know which DNA set belonged to Jisung and which belonged to Jeongin because there was nothing in any national or local database for either of them. The handcuffs Sanghyuk had mentioned weren’t seen in any photos taken at the crime scene, nor did any of her officers report seeing a pair of handcuffs. 

The entire case was a mess. Jennie started to feel a little hopeless.

Jennie nearly jumped out of her skin when a soft pair of hands slid up her back before gently massaging her tense shoulder blades. In relief, she hummed, shivering a little at the sensation.

“Mmm, Chae?” She mumbled.

“Guess again.”

_Jisoo._

Jennie leaned her head back to look at the tall doctor, who was still massaging her tight muscles. 

“That feels amazing,” Jennie purred, moaning when Jisoo rubbed her thumb over a particularly sore knot. “Ah…”

“Your back muscles are awfully tight.” Jisoo informed Jennie. “Several myofascial trigger points up and down your trapezius and both sides of your latissimus dorsi… Detective, you should take better care of yourself.”

Jennie had no idea what any of that even meant, but she was perfectly content to sit and be massaged by the doctor who was impressively strong for someone with such thin, wiry arms.

“I need to get back into going to the gym,” Jennie murmured. 

“If you do, perhaps try to stick to a schedule. Regular strain on the muscle will strengthen them. Slowly increase intensity and frequency. Do not just go start working out whenever you can, like Lisa.” Jisoo explained.

“What’s wrong with the way Lisa works out? She’s a gym rat by heart. Good luck convincing her to stick to a schedule.”

Jisoo snorted. She moved away from Jennie’s back and Jennie rolled her neck, relishing in the newfound looseness in her upper back. Jisoo was an excellent masseuse. 

Wood screeching on wood caused Jennie to open her eyes. Jisoo dragged one of Jennie’s office chairs to sit in front of her. Jennie sat back and watched with a tired smile as Jisoo began to reorganize stuff on Jennie’s desk, placing pens and pencils back into their cup and gathering papers to stack. Once the desk was in a more presentable state, Jisoo turned to Jennie and took one of her hands—her writing hand, the left one—and began massaging her palm. Jennie swallowed a groan of pleasure. 

“How are you doing?”

The doctor’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, lacking the iciness it usually had when she was working. 

“I’m tired.” Jennie said. “I can’t sleep much at night. Always thinking.”

Jisoo hummed. “I understand. You are exhausted. I do not think you are in any state to drive tonight. May I take you home tonight?”

Jennie had absolutely no problem with that. She herself had been a little worried about driving anyway—she could barely keep her eyes open.

“But my car...”

“Lisa will pick you up tomorrow morning for work.”

“Lisa lives in Jangchung-dong.”

“Then Chaeyoung would be happy to pick you up.”

“Chaeyoung lives even further than Lisa.”

“Then I will pick you up. But be prepared, I wake up very early.”

Jennie felt a smile creep onto her face. 

“That’s alright.”

* * *

_ Tuesday, 24 October, 20XX. 7:03 PM. Jennie’s Apartment, Dasan-dong, Jung-gu, Seoul. _

Jennie sighed in content as she stepped into her blissfully warm apartment. It had a tendency to get uncomfortably cold very quickly in that particular area of Seoul, and she was relieved to have remembered to turn the heat on before she left for work earlier in the morning. Jisoo stepped in behind her, looking around curiously. 

“Your apartment is nice,” She said as Jennie slipped out of her boots and into house slippers. “It is cute.”

“Thanks,” Jennie smiled, then noticed Jisoo had made no movement to take her shoes off. She stood in the foyer instead, shifting anxiously. “Do you want to stay for a little bit? It’s only seven o’clock.”

Jisoo smiled. “I’d love to.”

Fifteen minutes later, Jisoo perched on the futon in Jennie’s living area and Jennie stood at the kitchen counter. Jennie’s apartment was a tiny loft room, with one bathroom to the right of the front door next to the coat hanger, an infant-sized kitchen and miniscule dining table forwards and to the left of the front door, a television underneath the stairs that lead to the bedroom, and a pullout futon for a sofa about five feet away from the television. It was tiny, but it worked for Jennie. Jennie would never admit it, but sometimes she fell asleep curled up on the futon because it was directly next to the balcony, and looking out at the stars was comforting in a way that she couldn’t quite describe. 

“Can I get you a drink?” Jennie asked Jisoo, who was gazing around the apartment in wonder.

“I’d ask for wine, but we have work tomorrow,” Jisoo chuckled. “Water is all right.”

Jennie filled up two mugs of water and then joined Jisoo on the futon, handing the doctor one of the mugs and taking a sip from the other. 

“How do you relax after a long day of work?” Jisoo asked, a hint of bliss in her voice. 

The drive home had been long and eventful enough that Jennie managed to forget about Sanghyuk’s interview, but Jisoo’s question caused the memories to resurface. It must have shown on Jennie’s face, however, because Jisoo’s gaze turned sympathetic and her fingers brushed over Jennie’s free hand.

“Why is Sanghyuk so important to you?” Jisoo’s voice was barely above a whisper. It was an innocent question—Jisoo genuinely didn’t know the answer. Before getting closer to Jisoo, the only ones who knew of Jennie’s tumultuous relationship with Sanghyuk were Lisa and Chaeyoung. 

“I’ve known him since I joined the police academy,” Jennie whispered, beginning to wish she’d actually gotten the wine and poured herself some. “He was my first case. Suspicion of drug trafficking. Four more accusations over the course of nine years and he still has yet to be thrown in prison for it; he’s just that good of a liar. We’re always trying to catch him, but he’s always one step ahead. It’s been an arms race between me, him, and Chaeyoung since we were twenty-one. He... he’s not a bad person. He’s sharp and prickly because he has to be—that’s the world he lives in. He’s harsh because he has to protect himself. He and Lisa don’t like each other because because she didn’t treat him well back when we were all younger.”

Jisoo nodded thoughtfully. “Chaeyoung once said something similar. She told me Lisa was reckless as a cadet.”

Jennie smirked mirthlessly. “Reckless is one way of putting it. Anyway, I was interrogating him and Chaeyoung was there to take his fingerprint. We must have been in that room for hours. He broke down crying more times than I have fingers,” Jennie swallowed. “He.. his brothers died in the trainwreck ten years ago. He was nineteen, had five brothers—he wanted to be an engineer. But his five brothers were all tradesmen and the money they made went to his college. Once they were killed, he had nowhere to go, he had no one. He didn’t get a scholarship and ended up on the streets. He told us pretty much everything—he didn’t have anyone to talk to to get over his grief, so he told us. When we asked him about the drug claim, he denied it vehemently—which was true at the time. The first time we arrested him, he really wasn’t distributing. He got into it, I think, after I arrested him the first time.”

“If you knew, why didn’t he get caught the second time?”

“I didn’t have proof. I always knew, just on instinct and because I could read him, but instinct and feeling isn’t enough to throw someone in prison. He’s been trafficking drugs since we were twenty-two, Chaeyoung and I are the only ones who ever really knew. Except now. He confessed he dealt narcotics and LSD to the owner of the nightclub when I was interrogating him earlier.” Jennie sighed. “Even if he isn’t responsible for the murder, he’ll be imprisoned for illicit drug use.”

“You’re close to him because you keep being sent after him,” Jisoo concluded. Jennie shrugged.

“That’s an easy way of putting it. I guess Chaeyoung and I have kind of grown attached to him after all these years. When Chaeyoung told me his prints were all over both crime scenes, I almost didn’t go after him because I knew this time, whatever he said, whatever lie he constructed—it wouldn’t be enough to keep him out of prison.” Jennie raked a hand through her hair, letting it flop lifelessly over the futon cushions. “But one of his brothers—Hongbin, maybe? I can’t remember all their names. He was close to Chaeyoung’s sister before he was killed. Both Chaeyoung and her sister, Nayoung, were really torn up about his death. After we finished his first interrogation, Chaeyoung pretty much had a breakdown. After that, she transferred colleges and met you.”

Jisoo nodded sagely, watching Jennie closely. “Do you pity Sanghyuk?”

“Sometimes,” Jennie answered without really thinking, because she’d thought about this too many times for her own good. “Sometimes I just think he’s a prick, but then I remember it’s not his fault and then I get sad. People in the higher positions always told me my heart was too big for this job, and I guess… I guess it is. But I don’t want to be like every other stone-hearted cop. That just seems like such a sad way to live.”

“I don’t want you to be a stone-hearted cop,” Jisoo interlocked their fingers, sliding her cool, smooth hand into Jennie’s. “I love that you have a big heart. It shows your compassion and empathy and those two traits are what we need to see more of in this world. You want to make this world a better place. I admire that.”

Jennie felt tears brim under her eyes, but forced them back. Jisoo’s hand found Jennie’s cheek, and ran the back of her knuckles softly over Jennie’s cheekbones. Jennie smiled in a desperate attempt to keep her tears at bay, but a singular stray tear streaked down her cheek and Jisoo didn’t waste a second before thumbing it away.

“You have a wonderful smile,” Jisoo murmured, her face inches from Jennie’s. 

Jennie wrapped her hand around Jisoo’s. She wondered if this was paradise. If it was, she never wanted to leave.

* * *

_ Wednesday, 25 October, 20XX. 8:51 AM. Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, Sajik-dong, Seoul. _

“Chaeyoung-ah! Good morning!”

Chaeyoung closed her eyes in irritation when the noisy detective’s voice reached her ears. A second later the laboratory door banged open and the devil herself strolled in. Chaeyoung turned her head and opened her mouth to snap at her, but then the detective tugged her up from where she was bent over a microscope.

“What are you—”

“Milady,” Lisa bowed dramatically, then took Chaeyoung’s hand and placed a single rose in her fingers. Chaeyoung felt heat begin to rise to her face, but tamped it down with growing frustration. 

“What is this?” She demanded, giving the rose a once over. It was in perfect condition, the flowers a beautiful red and the stem a healthy green. 

“It’s a rose,” Lisa smirked. “Duh.”

Chaeyoung almost hit her with the flower but opted for glaring at her instead. Lisa responded with a cheeky grin.

“And why, Detective Manoban, did you bring me a rose?”

“To woo you.”

Chaeyoung laughed outright at that. “To _woo_ me, huh?”

“Will you, the oh-so impressive and genius Doctor Park Chaeyoung, please go—”

Chaeyoung grabbed Lisa’s jacket collar and pulled her closer, breathing on the woman’s lips.

“No. You’re going to need to try a lot harder than that, sweetheart.”

Chaeyoung pushed the rose back into Lisa’s hands, purposely pressing the flower into the detective so her hands gently brushed over her chest. 

“If you want me, then fight for me.”

She cast a suave look at the tall detective through her eyelashes before winking, feeling immense satisfaction flush through her body when red bloomed in Lisa’s cheeks. She turned on her heel with a click and walked away towards the lobby, leaving a thunderstruck detective behind.

* * *

_ Wednesday, 25 October, 20XX. 8:59 AM, Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, Sajik-dong, Seoul. _

“Kihyun-ssi and Hyunwoo-ssi, please follow me,” A pleasant, strong voice Kihyun recognized pulled his attention from the floor to whoever had spoken. He and Hyunwoo looked up, looking at one of the doctors he’d met the week before—the shorter one with the red hair and powerful presence. 

Kihyun and Hyunwoo stood and followed the doctor through a set of doors and down a pristine white hallway that reminded Kihyun painfully of the hospital he’d spent so much time at the previous week. There wasn’t much to look at aside from cold tile flooring, white drywall and doors lining the hall. Occasionally someone in a matching white coat would enter or leave a room, but otherwise there was nothing.

“I apologize for having to call you today. We’ve recently made a lead and you two are the only ones who can confirm it.” The doctor—Dr. Park?—explained apologetically. 

“We are willing to help in any way we can,” Hyunwoo said gravely. Kihyun nodded, and Dr. Park threw a sad smile over her shoulder before leading the two men through another set of double doors into a laboratory.

“First I’d like to know what you know about Diablo.” She said, getting straight to the point as she lead them to sit down in the chairs across from her desk.

Both Hyunwoo and Kihyun looked up at her, surprised and caught off guard by the question. Kihyun really didn’t want to think about Diablo.

“Like.. what?”

“Anything.”

“That’s the problem. We don’t know anything about him,” Kihyun raised an eyebrow in concern. 

“You know what he looks like. You killed him.”

Hyunwoo and Kihyun exchanged looks. 

“What does this have to do with…”

Dr. Park turned her computer screen around to face Kihyun and Hyunwoo. Kihyun felt his heart jolt.

On the screen was the face of a man Kihyun had hated most of his life, a man who constantly targeted Kihyun and Hyunwoo and a man who finally had gotten what he deserved, a spot in hell.

On the screen was Diablo. He’d been dead for three years and Kihyun’s fists still curled when he scanned his white, dead face.

“Is this Diablo?” Dr. Park asked, carefully watching Kihyun and Hyunwoo.

Hyunwoo was the first to nod. Kihyun kept staring, feeling all sorts of emotions he thought he’d buried.

“Is this what you’ve called us here for? To make us relive these moments?” Kihyun demanded without thinking. Dr. Park blinked in surprise.

“No,” She said slowly. “The way we’ve managed to identify the man who was killed was by taking a picture frame from his desk and scanning it for prints. A man who looks like Diablo is in the picture. I want to know if you can confirm it is him and maybe tell us about the other two in the photo.”

She stood up without waiting for either of them to answer, and strolled towards the row of counters behind her desk. Kihyun and Hyunwoo looked at each other again, but Kihyun was speechless. He’d thought three years would have been enough to bury everything.

He was wrong.

The doctor returned to her desk with a plastic bag containing a small wooden picture frame. She held it out to Hyunwoo, who took it gingerly. Kihyun leaned over the side of his armchair to look at the picture.

Diablo stood in the center of the frame, blind eye and neck scar and all, with a young woman on his left and a muscular giant to his right. The woman on the left was tall for a woman, but much shorter and at least twenty years younger than both men, with long black hair and a terrifying smile. The man on the right was extremely physically imposing and grimaced more than smiled; his tiny black eyes glared at Kihyun through the picture.

“The man in the middle is Diablo, correct?” Dr. Park asked.

“Yes.” Kihyun nodded, gritting his teeth.

“Do you know anything about the other two?”

The woman and the muscular man were unfamiliar to Kihyun. They both looked like the type of people Diablo would have associated with, but Kihyun couldn’t recall ever seeing them or meeting them before. 

“We don’t,” Hyunwoo murmured, handing the photo back to Dr. Park.

“Is the other man the victim?” Kihyun asked.

“I’m technically not allowed to share that information with you but because you’re putting up so well with us, I’ll tell you that yes, that’s what we think. Which is crucial if true, because it means our victim has had some kind of tie to the worst crime boss in Korea’s history.” Dr. Park said, her voice blank. 

Kihyun nodded absently, not quite sure what to do with this information. If the two other people had anything to do with Diablo then what? Kihyun and Hyunwoo knew a lot of people, but they’d never even seen the other two people in the picture before.

Kihyun felt so lost.

* * *

_ Wednesday, 25 October, 20XX. 9:04 AM. Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, Sajik-dong, Seoul. _

Lisa huffed as she slunk back into her office, trying to force the blush on her cheeks to settle. Chaeyoung wanted her to fight for her, huh? Well, if Chaeyoung wanted to play hard to get, then Lisa would just have to play along.

She’d barely been at her desk for two seconds before there was a knock at the door. She sighed silently before calling,

“Come in!”

Yeonjun poked his head into the room, looking rather sheepish.

“Sorry, Detective. I saw you in the hallway and tried to get your attention but I guess I wasn’t loud enough.” He came fully into the room, then bowed. “I have a flash drive here with all the security footage we pulled off the cameras in the security room in the nightclub. I brought it to Detective Kim but she asked me to bring it to you. Said you’d do a better job looking through it all. There’s a lot. We only pulled off the footage since around mid-September, but it’s still quite a bit to go through.”

“Thanks, Yeonjun.” Lisa smiled; this kid deserved a raise or promotion or something. He handed her the flash drive in a tiny sealed package and she tore it open, fishing the shiny black device out of the pocket.

“One more thing, Detective...”

Lisa looked up at his face, which had paled a shade or two. She blinked in surprise.

“Um... I looked through a bit of it while pulling it off the machine back in the nightclub. It, uh.. Some of it is…”

“Intense?”

“Violent.”

Lisa didn’t doubt it, based on his expression. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. She smiled tightly.

“Thank you, Yeonjun. Unless there’s anything else, you can leave.”

He shook his head and bowed with a respectful smile, then left without a word. Lisa hesitated a second, suddenly a lot less keen on going through the footage. She’d listened to Sanghyuk’s interrogation the night before and had a hard time even then just listening to Sanghyuk describe the way the nightclub owner treated Jeongin and Jisung. She slowly plugged the flash drive into her computer and waited for it to load before clicking the link. She plugged her earbuds into the computer and then placed the buds into her ears, bracing herself before pressing play.

The footage started off on September 18th, 8:09 PM, in the room above the nightclub. The footage was grainy but not exactly black and white, just toned down. A shadowed figure was perched in a chair in the center of the room facing the doorway with its back to the camera, smoke billowing from a joint between their fingers. The figure shifted slightly, and then the door opened, faint light from the hallway spilling into the darkened room. A new person stood in the doorway for a second, and it didn’t take Lisa long to determine who the person was—Sanghyuk. 

He said something that Lisa didn’t understand due to the quality of the footage. The figure in the middle said something back, their voice quiet and low—and distinctly male—and Sanghyuk yelled, stepping fully into the room and shutting the door behind him, once again drenching the room in black. 

Sanghyuk and the man in the chair continued to banter—Sanghyuk borderline yelling, and the other man calmly replying to him. Eventually Sanghyuk stormed over to a dresser in the corner of the room, pulled out two plastic bags and a pill bottle, and slammed them down onto the wooden surface before whirling around to glare at the sitting man. Sanghyuk pointed a finger at him—the man’s only response was taking another drag from the blunt in his fingers. Then Sanghyuk marched towards the door, opened it, stepped into the hallway, and slammed it shut behind him.

Lisa paused, blinking. She could tell that Sanghyuk had been truly angry, and based on the interrogation she’d listened to the previous day, she could make a pretty safe assumption that this was the day Sanghyuk had stopped dealing to Chanyong, assuming that Ga Chanyong was the man in the chair in the center of the room. She pulled her notepad from the corner of her desk, clicked a pen, and began writing down notes.

She spent another fifteen minutes flipping through footage. The next two weeks or so in September were very uneventful, but she was now positive that the man was Chanyong, and he brought up into his room various people of all genders. Lisa didn’t want to see his behavior in the bedroom so she opted to skip until she could find something else on the footage. 

At 7:41 in the evening on October second, she stopped the footage as two smaller, skinny figures entered the bedroom. Chanyong was in the middle of placing an LSD blotter on his tongue when they shuffled into the room one after the other, and as he turned around, they both flinched under his harsh stare.

He snapped something at them, and they both nodded shakily. He approached them, his hulking, menacing build making the two smaller persons look cartoonishly small. He held his hand out, moving so quickly Lisa thought his intent was to strike one of them. But the figure on the left reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out five bottles of pills, and the figure on the right brought out two bags of something Lisa couldn’t see from his back pocket. They placed the drugs in Chanyong’s hands, and he turned around to stroll towards his bedside table, the camera catching sight of the vicious grin on his face. She paused the footage, relieved to finally be getting a full facial shot of him for the first time, and screen-shotted the picture before resuming the footage. 

As Chanyong was distracted with the drugs at his bedside, Lisa shifted her attention to the two smaller figures by the door. They were standing close together, perhaps holding hands, and the closer she looked, the more she could make out their features—short brown hair on the figure on the left, black hair on the one on the right. They both practically swam in their old-looking, worn clothing. 

Chanyong said something that sounded like, “Go.” And without hesitating, both boys turned and nearly ran from the room, vanishing in an instant. Lisa strained to hear as Chanyong spoke again—his voice was clearer as he was closer to the camera—but she still couldn’t quite make out what he was saying to himself. He leaned his head back and stuck another LSD blotter on his tongue, then closed his eyes and stood there for a second, his head leaned back as he relished in the drug entering his system. Then he opened his eyes and looked straight at the camera.

Lisa jumped, startled, and paused the footage, trying to calm her racing heart. It was just footage, he couldn’t see her, but looking into his eyes so suddenly had triggered a strange reaction in her. She screen-shotted the clip of his face for future reference, then took a deep breath to steel herself, and began skipping through more footage.

The two short figures from October 2nd began making constant reappearances, enabling Lisa to identify both of them as male, but Lisa quickly grew horrified with what she saw whenever they were in the frame. At 11:49 PM on October the 4th, they entered and had barely made it three steps inside before Chanyong was on them, throwing the boy with black hair to the floor and shoving the brunette against the wall. Chanyong hit the brunette boy twice, once in the stomach and the other across the face, and the black haired boy was on his feet trying to tug Chanyong away within an instant. But Chanyong rounded on him, forcing him away and knocking him to the floor, pinning him by his skinny wrists to the smooth floor. Both boys began screaming loudly, forcing Lisa to turn the volume down for the sake of her poor eardrums, but despite the horror of the situation she wasn’t able to look away. Chanyong was torturing them, tossing them around the room like rag dolls, hitting them—and right as the clock struck midnight, Chanyong pushed both of them towards the giant bed in the corner of the room and screamed something at the two. Lisa covered her mouth as the boys scrambled onto the bed, the black haired boy on top of the brunette, and began undressing. 

She pulled her earbuds out and watched the scene from between her fingers, feeling sick to her stomach. 

October 5th, 6th, 7th and 8th were similar. The two boys would show up to the room every few hours, more haggard and abused each time they reappeared, sometimes alone and sometimes with each other. Lisa had to stop watching halfway through October sixth, near tears and wholly unable to continue watching their torturous experiences. As she skipped through the footage of october the seventh and eighth, she had to take her earbuds out and close her eyes to avoid looking looking at and hearing the horror. She just wanted to save them.

In the early morning of October the ninth, around four in the morning, the bedroom door remained closed, but a tall female figure sauntered in from the leftmost corner of the room from where the camera was situated, startling Lisa with the way she entered the room as if she’d walked straight through the wall. The woman’s hair fell to her lower back and was lightly colored—Lisa wasn’t able to tell the exact hue due to the lighting and camera quality—and she had impressive breasts, but her presence did nothing to stir Chanyong, who remained passed out in his bed from a night of heavy smoking and sex with an unidentifiable person. 

The five pill bottles and two bags of LSD blotters were still resting on the desk across from the bed, where Chanyong had moved them the previous day from where they were in his bedside cabinet. Lisa recognized the bottles and the bags as still having been there when they investigated the room on Thursday the nineteenth. The light haired woman approached the drugs, took one of the pill bottles, and replaced it with a small slip of paper—a note. She cast a glance at Chanyong’s sleeping body on his bed, then walked to the left, slipping the pill bottle into the pocket of her knee-length, bulbous pink North Face winter coat. Then she disappeared from the footage in the same direction she’d come in—the left corner, where the storage closet had been. 

_The secret door._

Whoever this woman was, she knew the passcode—she could get inside. She might have been at the crime scene. Lisa scrambled to write it down.

October ninth remained the most passive day on the entire flash drive of footage. Chanyong did little except sleep—he laid in bed for hours, and the only time he got up was to leave his room briefly, returning fifteen minutes later with dripping hair and dressed in a new change of clothes. He wandered towards the drugs on the desk across from his bed, inspected the missing bottle, picked up the note the mystery woman had left and crumpled it into a ball before ripping the crushed paper into shreds and letting the strips fall to the floorboards. He then stripped his bed of the sheets and comforter, pillow cases too, and trashed all of it. Around one in the afternoon, a woman in a grey apron arrived at the room—Lisa had seen this woman before, she must be some kind of custodian—and spent a half hour or so cleaning the room, pointedly avoiding the bed area, where Chanyong laid immobile on his empty mattress and didn’t acknowledge her once. The custodian left, taking the bedclothes with her, and leaving the bedroom practically spotless. His bed remained completely barren the entirety of the day and Chanyong slept through the night without any blankets or pillows. 

Around six in the morning of October the tenth, the custodian returned with an entirely new set of bed clothing—grey sheets, a black comforter, and pillow cases. She left the new bed set by the door, leaving as quickly as she’d come.

Chanyong finally stirred at around nine in the morning on October tenth. After vanishing briefly and returning with wet hair, he redressed his bed with the sheets and blankets brought to him by the custodian. The tenth had been a fairly bright morning, allowing Lisa to see more of his features. As he got dressed and moved around his room, the sunlight from the windows and the overhead light illuminated his body. He was incredibly well built, very muscular and quite tall. However, he seemed to be experiencing withdrawal symptoms—his body glistened with sweat and he looked unhealthy in general, with sallow skin and sunken eyes. It was interesting, Lisa thought as she watched him move around his room, that someone who was so evil and so abusive and so unstable could look so normal, so human.

Chanyong left the room at 9:47 AM on October tenth through the bedroom door, not the secret back door.

Lisa fast forwarded through the footage. For almost eight hours, there was no activity other than the fading outside lights; not another soul entered the room. 

Lisa stopped fastforwarding when the time at the bottom of the screen read 5:30 in the evening. Jisoo had determined Chanyong’s time of death to be around 6 o’clock on October the tenth, and Lisa stared at the screen anxiously, waiting for something to happen. As she waited, Lisa realized she was trembling in apprehension. The manner of Chanyong’s death had been slow, violent. Lisa was a police officer and had been for nearly eleven years, but she never wanted to watch people die. She hated how horrible people could be.

Movement caught her attention. Chanyong entered the room from the left side of the screen, his entire form visibly shaking. 

She flinched when the bedroom door banged open at exactly 5:38 PM. 

The black haired boy tumbled into the room, landing on his back on the red carpet, and a third man, dressed entirely in black and unseen in any of the footage before, followed him into the room with a vice grip on the brunette boy’s hair. Both boys were bleeding and bruised. Chanyong stormed towards the third man and grabbed the brunette boy, then shoved the third man towards the door. The bouncer quickly left the room, shutting the door. The ravenette boy screamed at Chanyong as he dragged the other boy to the bed, yanked open his drawer and fished out a pair of handcuffs. He shoved the brunette onto the bed, roughly tightened one of the cuffs around the brunette’s wrist and locked the other cuff around the bedpost, then stepped back to stare at the bleeding boy, curled up on the mattress with his wrist locked to the bed. Chanyong snarled something at him, then turned his attention to the boy on the floor. Within a second, he was on him.

Both boys screeched as Chanyong pinned the ravenette to the carpet, screaming something at him before hitting him in the chest. Lisa nearly took both earbuds out of her ears—it was so loud, the pained screams of the boys and the horrible yelling of Chanyong.

At 5:44, the door was kicked in, momentarily distracting Chanyong long enough to give the black haired boy on the floor a chance to knee him in his groin and crawl away when Chanyong released him and fell to the side, snarling in pain. A tall, human-shaped shadow eclipsed the light from the hallway before staggering into the room and stopping right in front of where Chanyong was curled in on himself on the carpet.

Sanghyuk. 

The footage was still terribly low quality, grainy and discolored, but Lisa didn’t think she could ever recall seeing Sanghyuk so angry. A crowbar was clenched in his white knuckles, and as Chanyong looked up at Sanghyuk standing over him, Sanghyuk swung the metal stick like a baseball bat, cracking it across Chanyong’s face with a horrible crunching noise. Lisa’s hands flew to her mouth. Chanyong yelled, collapsing onto his front. 

The black haired boy scrambled over to where the brunette had tumbled off the mattress and onto the floor and began yanking on the handcuffs that kept him trapped. Both boys were hysterical at this point, screaming and clawing at each other.

Sanghyuk yelled something at them, and the brunette shouted something in return, but Sanghyuk was quickly distracted by Chanyong staggering to his feet, bleeding heavily from a terrible gash across the left side of his face. He leapt at Sanghyuk, who screeched.

The clock read 5:48. Chanyong pinned Sanghyuk to the cabinet closest to the bedroom doorway, effectively knocking the crowbar from Sanghyuk’s hand. Chanyong bent down to pick it up and then turned away from Sanghyuk, stomping towards where the two boys were still desperately wrenching and kicking at the bedpost to free the brunette. Lisa jerked away from the screen and hid her face in her hands, not ready to see the ravenette be hit.

Chanyong raised the crowbar above his head, the black haired boy ducked, hiding his head with his hands—

A shout. 

Another figured ran onto the screen from the left side, something long and black in their grip. Lisa saw a flash of short, light hair, and then the figure swung the long black object, bashing it over Chanyong’s head.

Chanyong fell to the floor. The new figure straightened up, and the camera caught a perfect view of their face—a girl, no older than twenty, with pale hair to her breasts and wild eyes, chest heaving for breath. For a second, everyone in the room was quiet; even the boys on the floor were staring up at the girl in shock. She stared right back at them.

Chanyong groaned and shifted, turning everyone’s attention to him.

Sanghyuk shouted. Lisa looked to him to see that the cabinet he’d been shoved against had been opened, revealing the display of weapons and firearms Chaeyoung’s team had combed through for fingerprints. A switchblade fell from the top shelf and clattered to the floor, and Sanghyuk held a handgun in his hand.

He pointed the firearm at the left corner of the room, above the closet where the secret door was.

_**Bang!** _

The clock read 5:51. The new girl moved to stand over Chanyong, raised the black stick over her head. 

Sanghyuk aimed the firearm directly at Lisa.

5:52.

_**Bang!** _

Lisa jumped. The screen flickered, showed static, then cut to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Time:**  
>  Jeongin is arrested and interrogated. Lisa and Chaeyoung get closer. Jennie and Jisoo get intimate. Kihyun and Hyunwoo are called back into the field.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeongin is arrested and interrogated. Lisa and Chaeyoung get closer. Jennie and Jisoo get intimate. Hyunwoo and Kihyun are called back into the field.
> 
> [This chapter is mainly filler and pretty short, I apologize. The next chapter will be much more action packed!]

_ Thursday, 26 October, 20XX. 4:35 PM. Seoul Police Department. _

A sharp buzz from the door jerked Jisoo from her trance, hunched over the autopsy notes stacked next to her laptop.

“Dr. Kim.”

The doctor slouched, annoyed, and picked up the meter stick next to her before stretching across the room to press the end on the intercom button.

“Yes?”

The device buzzed again, and Jennie’s voice filled the silent laboratory again.

“Yang Jeongin has been arrested. We need you to come take his DNA for testing; Chaeyoung is out in the field.”

Jisoo sighed irritably under her breath—she loathed field work and didn’t understand why Chaeyoung enjoyed it—before reaching up to tug at the tape that adhered her glasses to her face. She got to her feet, making her way to the locked electronic door to her lab, and pressed her ID against the key reader. When the great, heavy door clicked loudly, she pulled it open and was face to face with Lisa and Jennie. Both detectives gave her half hearted smiles—Jennie’s face brightened a bit as Jisoo made eye contact—and she followed them down the hall after locking the door again.

“Soobin and Taehyun pulled him over for going 80 in a 55 near the Han,” Lisa explained, unprompted. “When they searched the vehicle they found a bloody switchblade in the glove compartment and a crowbar in the trunk. They arrested him for speeding and driving recklessly in the dark.”

“How old is he?”

“Can’t be older than 19.”

The doctor gave the slightest wince. 

“Is he the same teenager in the footage you found?” Dr. Kim asked, voice tight. Lisa swallowed before nodding, blanching and turning her eyes to the floor. “What did it show?”

“I…” She sounded small and timid, a tone that the doctor hated on her. “It was.. Awful. There were two boys, I think they’re Jeongin and Jisung… for a month straight, they were being screamed at, and hit, and otherwise tortured. By Chanyong. He tortured them night after night after night. I started with footage from September seventeenth.. Watched all the way up until the night he died. I didn’t see who killed him because Sanghyuk shot the camera before Chanyong’s death. There wasn’t violence every night, but… it was bad, Jisoo, it was awful.”

“Chanyong? You mean the boss?” The doctor was confused, but a little afraid to ask for clarification, her heart giving a sick lurch. 

“Yes; remember that Chaeyoung confirmed the victim to be Ga Chanyong, the ghost-like owner of the nightclub?” Jennie nodded and stepped in, as Lisa looked unable to continue, her mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish. Jisoo dreaded to know what exactly Lisa had seen.

“Is she sure—”

“Yeah, I think she’s pretty positive Ga Chanyong is one of the men in the picture frame. Like I said, she ran the prints on the frame and it matched the DNA of the victim; she could confirm everything your report described—age, weight, hair color, hair texture, hair loss, everything. I don’t know how Chaeyoung managed to match the body with his DNA information, given the state of his corpse and how little information we have on him.” 

Jisoo ignored the interruption and grimaced in agreement. The murder had been brutal—the boss—Ga Chanyong, whatever, she didn’t care about his name—had been beaten to death with a pipe and a crowbar and stabbed with a switchblade and left to die shoved into the back of a station wagon that had seen similar damage. The body had been pretty much soup by the time it got to her; the dissection had taken nearly two hours and the autopsy report of all of his mutilations had been more than four pages long. 

“So what is your theory of the murder?” The doctor asked as the group turned a corner towards the holding cells.

“Well, based on the footage, I wouldn’t be surprised if Sanghyuk and the girl who burst in at the last second were the ones who killed him. That’s what it looked like, at least. I haven’t been able to get much more out of Sanghyuk and we still have no idea who the girl is.”

The words made the doctor nervous. Despite the sad life the boy lived, Sanghyuk was important to Jennie and Chaeyoung for many reasons. The doctor had only met the man once, when she was asked to take his DNA, but he seemed spiky only to protect himself. She had the feeling there was more to him than what people could see. He’d entered a catatonic-like state since his interrogation the morning before and Jisoo could see how easily it was stressing Jennie. Jisoo hadn’t had a chance to talk to Sanghyuk and neither had Chaeyoung, but she was curious to know what had been revealed in his interrogation. She still had yet to listen to it.

Dr. Kim shook away thoughts of Sanghyuk with ease and forced her face blank as they approached the holding cell. Lisa unlocked the clunky, thick metal bars and Jisoo stepped into the cell, piercing eyes immediately falling on the boy curled up on the bench in the corner. 

The detectives were right—the boy was horribly young, barely a teenager. His eyes were heavy and hooded—they were the eyes of a boy who’d seen too much. His black hair was matted and lank and greasy. He must have been in this cell for hours now—he was dirty, his lips pulled downwards, and he stared at the doctor with a broken blankness she wished she didn’t recognize. She fished out a small swab stick and approached him smoothly, making sure her face was kind and relaxed. 

“My name is Doctor Kim. Please open your mouth for me,” She said, voice dim. 

The boy complied, but watched her—his eyes never left her face as she swabbed the inside of his mouth. He looked at her with a tortured kind of apprehension, as though she might make a sudden movement. She kept her movements slow and deliberate, gentle and light, as though she were air. She placed the stick in a small vial, and stepped backwards. 

“Do you feel up to questioning?” Jennie asked blankly. 

The boy’s cold eyes stared right through the detective.

* * *

_ Thursday, 26 October, 20XX. 4:48 PM. Seoul Police Department Interrogation Office. _

“Can you tell me your name?” Jennie began, keeping her voice calm and light.

“You already know my name.” Jeongin’s voice was thick with something broken and sad, scratchy and rough from undoubtful screaming. Jennie repressed a sigh.

“I need your confimation for the tape.”

“My name is Yang Jeongin.”

“How old are you, Jeongin?”

“Eighteen.”

Jennie winced internally—he was just a kid. Just a child, thrown too early into a harsh world. Who knew how long he’d been running?

“What is your relation to Ga Chanyong?”

Jeongin flinched slightly, but he didn’t reply otherwise. He stared at his hands instead, eyes blank and icy. Jennie decided to skip the question instead of waiting for him to answer.

“Do you know Han Sanghyuk?”

Jeongin nodded. 

“How?”

“He… tried to help us. But he didn’t. He sold us to him.”

“Sanghyuk? He sold you to who?”

“You said his name already. I can’t.”

It clicked—Sanghyuk sold them to Chanyong. For a minute, Jennie was stunned into silence. That didn’t make any sense. She quickly went back over the conversation she’d had with Sanghyuk the previous morning. One of them was lying. Or mistaken. Jeongin looked about ready to faint at the sound of Chanyong’s name, so she decided to change the subject slightly, not wanting him to shut down or otherwise stop talking.

“You’re close to Park Jisung, right?” She said, mind still reeling. 

“...Yes.”

“How old is he?”

“Seventeen,” Jeongin replied with some hesitance, eyeing her warily. The distrustful look he was sweeping her with was a look she saw often.

“Do you know where he is?”

“No.”

She was quiet for a moment. The response was too fast, too suspicious.

“What if I told you I won’t do anything to him?”

“I told you I don’t know where he is.”

Jeongin shifted uncomfortably, and Jennie kept an eye on every one of his movements. His answer was still fast, still sounded like a lie, but Jennie decided to drop it for the time being, not wanting to make him shut down as Sanghyuk had.

“Do you live together?”

“Ye..yeah.”

“Where?”

“A semi-basement apartment in Hannam. We.. moved away recently.”

“Where’s your old apartment, exactly?”

“It’s, uh, more like a cellar. Under the city, almost—like I said, it’s a semi-basement. You have to access it via a little doorway next to a parking garage.”

“I see,” Jennie said, mentally storing away that information. She’d probably send Lisa to investigate it, see if she could find anything. 

“Son Hyunwoo, Yoo Kihyun, and Son Chaemin. Do any of those names mean anything to you?”

For the first time since she sat down with him, Jeongin’s expression changed, and he looked a little puzzled, like he was asked a trick question. He squinted his eyes and slowly shook his head, his matted, choppy hair swinging gently back and forth.

“..No,” He said, dragging the word out some. “I don’t know any of those people.”

“How long have you known Jisung?”

“..Um.. Five, six years?”

“Has it always been just you and him?”

“No, there was another. Shin Ryujin. Fucking bitch.” He snapped loudly, eyes narrowed into slits. “I hope she goes to hell.”

Jennie recoiled a little, startled by the sudden outburst. The change in his demeanor was dizzying. It gave Jennie a few hints about his temperament. He glared at the table now, hands clenched into white fists. His gaze was filled with so much raw anger and hatred—they flashed like fireworks.

“Can you tell me why?” She asked, treading very carefully. “What has she done?”

“She ruined everything,” His voice was weaker now, sadder and less angry, and he slouched a little, some of the tense fury evaporating. “She is… was our friend. Our sister. She took care of Jisung and me. We all worked together, something like three years ago. Then our boss died and we had nowhere to go. Then Nari showed up and she betrayed us; she went with Nari.”

“Who is Nari?” 

“Sung Nari. She showed up and Ryujin went with her. And Sanghyuk found Jisung and me.”

“How old is Nari?”

“God, I don’t… Twenty-two? Twenty-three? She’s way older than Ryujin but she offered her money and food and somewhere warm to stay… I don’t blame Ryujin for leaving but I’ll always hate Nari for taking her from us and I’ll always hate Ryujin for going with her.”

“How old is Ryujin now?”

“Eighteen. She’s my age, and a year older than Jisung.”

Jennie rubbed between her forehead. Three years ago, this Ryujin girl would have been fifteen, and Nari would have been twenty or twenty-one, which meant whatever relationship they had would have been illegal then and it would still be illegal now. The story just kept getting worse.

“When was the last time you saw her?”

Jeongin hesitated, and his eyes rolled up towards the ceiling, as though he were thinking.

“When she ran off with Nari.”

“Which was when?”

“Three years ago.”

“You haven’t seen either of them since?”

“No. Probably for the best. Jisung might kill them both.”

“Tell me about Jisung,” Jennie said easily, starting to feel concerned enough to change the direction of the conversation. She was a little caught off guard; Jeongin spoke of killing Ryujin and Nari with such a blank, unjoking tone of voice, so serious, so calm. Jeongin and Jisung were obviously both damaged, maybe beyond repair, and it seemed like they genuinely wanted to harm these two women. For their sakes, Jennie desperately hoped they weren’t behind the murder, but the odds weren’t tilted in their favor.

“What do you want to know?” Jeongin seemed to soften a little bit at the mention of Jisung, and he looked at Jennie with a tentative, shadowed gaze. 

“What does he like to do?”

“He likes to write,” Jeongin said, and Jennie watched as a soft smile crept onto his face. She blinked. His smile was beautiful. She wondered how long it had been since he’d smiled a true smile. “He’s damn good at it, too. Sometimes he writes something and I draw it.”

“What does he write?”

“Poetry, fiction… He can write anything. It’s beautiful. _He’s_ beautiful. He didn’t deserve any of this.”

His voice cracked towards the end of his sentence and horror coiled like a snake in Jennie’s chest when Jeongin leaned forward, placing his head in his hands as his chest hitched and a single tear dripped onto the table. Helpless, she wondered what she should do. She swallowed thickly as another tear hit the plastic with a hollow smack, and another, then another. She wanted to comfort him, but didn’t know how, or even if she should. She also had other questions she wanted to ask him regarding the night of October 10th, but looking at him closer told her that he probably wasn’t ready to do that just yet. So she sat back in her chair, watched him cry, and decided they were done for the day.

She watched as Lisa slunk back into the room, easily clicked his hands into handcuffs—he didn’t put up any kind of fight—and guided the still-crying kid back into the holding cell. If she spent the next half hour in the security of Jisoo’s lab, wrapped in Jisoo’s arms, trying not to cry, no one had to know.

* * *

_ Thursday, 26 October, 20XX. 6:23 PM, Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, Sajik-dong, Seoul. _

“Hey—”

Chaeyoung stopped herself as she entered Lisa’s office, having just returned from a forensic investigation in Jung-gu. The detective had her head down on the desk, pillowed by her folded arms, and even though she was obviously awake, she made no effort to greet Chaeyoung or even look up. 

“Hey,” Chaeyoung closed the office door behind her, then tentatively walked around to where Lisa was slumped over her desk. Chaeyoung paused, unsure if she should try to touch her. “Are you alright?”

Lisa didn’t answer. Chaeyoung started to get concerned. Her shoulders were shaking lightly, in a way that reminded Chaeyoung of someone who was crying, and Chaeyoung panicked momentarily—what was she supposed to do? She’d never been very good with emotions. She didn’t want to make whatever Lisa was upset about worse.

But she couldn’t just leave the detective alone like this. 

“Lisa…”

She spoke softly, and the pet name got a reaction out of the detective. She raised her head and leaned her forehead into her palm, propping her elbow onto her desk. Her hair hid most of her face, but Chaeyoung didn’t miss the redness in her cheeks or the glimmer of wetness on her skin. Chaeyoung’s heart dropped.

“Lisa-yah, please tell me what’s wrong,” Chaeyoung crouched next to the detective, eyes level with the desk, and placed what she hoped was a comforting hand on Lisa’s shoulder.

Lisa took a shuddering breath in and sat up, then looked at Chaeyoung and flashed her a smile. Chaeyoung’s heart broke a little bit at the smile—it was forced, and sad, and accompanied by new tears that riveted down her flushed face. 

Without really thinking, Chaeyoung stood up and pulled the detective into her chest. Chaeyoung was a good six inches shorter than Lisa, but it didn’t matter now that Lisa was sitting—her head laid snugly on Chaeyoung’s chest and Chaeyoung could rub her back and hug her at the same time.

Lisa paused a second, seemingly taken aback at the uncharacteristic display of affection, but slowly melted into the hug and allowed Chaeyoung to stroke her hair, hesitantly bringing her arms up to wrap around Chaeyoung’s wasit.

Initially Chaeyoung would have hated this kind of contact, she supposed it wasn’t so bad if she was comforting a friend.

* * *

_Thursday, 26 October, 20XX. 7:45 PM. Jisoo’s Apartment, Itaewon-dong, Yongsan-gu, Seoul._

Jennie tossed her head back and laughed brightly at Jisoo as she struggled with the rice cakes. Jisoo grumbled at her, clearly irritated, but Jennie kept laughing, realizing how much she needed it after the week she’d had.

“Stop laughing and help me,” Jisoo snapped. Still giggling, Jennie complied, walking over to stand next to Jisoo and help her finish making the tteokbokki.

Jisoo’s apartment was also a loft, with a bathroom and coat closet by the front door, a tiny kitchen a few steps further inside, a staircase to the upper half, and a television-futon area by the window. It was cleaner than Jennie’s apartment—perhaps because it was less furnished—but cozy all the same, and wonderfully decorated with matching furniture. A few cute stuffed animals—Jisoo had explained them as Twotuckgeom—rested among the pillows on the futon and on her bed in the loft portion of the apartment. She’d said that she and her brothers had always enjoyed the cuter things in life.

“Have you never made tteokbokki before?” Jennie grinned and dodged Jisoo’s hand as it nearly smacked her shoulder.

“I mainly specialize in bento boxes and jjajjangmyeon. And I usually only cook for myself. Forgive me if I’m nervous,” Jisoo mumbled. Jennie softened.

“You don’t need to be nervous to cook for me,” She said lowly, then turned Jisoo’s face to look at her in the eyes. Jisoo’s round mousy eyes gazed back at her, the ceiling light reflecting in her glasses lenses and giving her eyes a warm glimmer.

Her lips looked so soft. 

Jennie swiftly pressed her own to them, then backed away before giving Jisoo a chance to either return it or push her away. Jisoo’s lips were every bit as soft as they looked, and tasted very slightly of blueberries.

Jisoo was gazing in wonder at Jennie when she pulled away. She blinked, almost as though she was entire unsure of what to do. Jennie gave a nervous smile, feeling the heat rising to her face. She wasn’t able to read Jisoo’s reaction; was it good or bad? 

Finally, a tiny smile graced Jisoo’s lips—along with an adorable blush—and she turned back to the stove, preparing to take the tteokbokki off the stove. Jennie sighed a bit internally and turned to assist her.

Thirty minutes later, Jisoo was putting dishes in the dishwasher and Jennie was storing the leftover tteokbokki in a tupperware container. It was eerily quiet, save for the clicking and clacking of the kitchenware and footsteps on the linoleum. Jennie was starting to wonder if she’d done the wrong thing by kissing her. Maybe it was too early for that. 

Jennie felt a tug in her chest as she placed the leftover tteokbokki on the highest shelf of the fridge. Doubt filled her thoughts as her delicate fingers lingered on the tupperware. Her brow furrowed slightly, eyes looking down into nothingness. She was stuck in a lost trance when suddenly a pair of arms snaked around her waist. 

Jennie jumped and tried to turn her head only to find a familiar face in the crook of her neck. Jisoo’s black hair obscured Jennie’s vision, and her hands rested on Jennie’s hips, thumbs making a soothing bath-and-forth motion. 

“What are you thinking about?” Jisoo whispered into her ear, hot breath heavily grazing the back of her head. Jennie felt her face begin to heat. 

“Nothing.” Jennie gasped as one of Jisoo’s arms left her hip to move away the black strands around her right shoulder. Cold fingers faintly brushed against the contours of her neck. 

“Really?” Jisoo questioned before pressing a feathery kiss to the crook of her neck. She leisurely placed more, making her way up to the sensitive spot behind Jennie’s ear; Jennie squirmed. The detective was lost in the sensation of hot breath against the casing of her ear. Her heart beat faster with every wet kiss to her neck and her hand had somehow found its way to the side of Jisoo’s head, pressing her closer. 

The open fridge beeped in protest to losing its cold air, and Jennie snapped back to reality. She wiggled out of Jisoo’s grip, much to her dismay, and turned to face the woman who made her chest heave. Jennie’s previous doubts came to mind.

_What if she feels pressured? Is this— Am I really the one she wants?_

“Listen, Jisoo,” Jennie put her hand on Jisoo’s bicep and pushed away slightly, “We don’t have to—”

Jisoo stepped forward to forcefully shut the fridge door and pushed Jennie up to the cool metal. She took her chin into her the caress of her palm and brought their lips together. Jisoo’s hips pinned Jennie to the fridge as her mouth moved fast and rhythmically; her hands traveled to the top of her partner’s neck, twisting it sideways for better access. Then, Jisoo’s left hand left to hook Jennie’s thigh around her waist, her left one tugging at raven locks. The kiss was dizzying, fervent, needing. 

And just as it started, it ended quickly and Jisoo pulled back. Her swollen, parted pink lips were barely an inch away, and her big eyelids heavy with something Jennie couldn’t place.

“You don’t want to?” Jisoo asked, but her eyes never left the detective’s lips. Jennie couldn’t think; the only thing she could do was breathe. Breathe in Jisoo’s presence, her hair, her neck, her lips, _her._

Jennie couldn’t think, so she listened to her body. She grasped Jisoo’s cheeks in her hands and smashed their lips together. Jisoo responded just as eagerly and soon they became a mess of swollen lips, loud breaths, and pure bliss. 

Eventually, running out of air, Jisoo took a step backward, and Jennie followed with a step forward. Together, they stumbled toward the bedroom door, their hands in each other’s hair and tugging at the hems of their shirts. Jisoo pushed Jennie into her bedroom door, turning the metal knob sideways. Jennie fell into the dark room with Jisoo hot on her heels.

* * *

_ Friday, 27 October, 20XX. 6:01 AM. Son-Yoo Apartment, Bogwang-dong, Yongsan-gu, Seoul. _

Kihyun jerked into wakefulness by a rapid buzzing sound eKimng off the bedside table, sending a horrible scraping noise reverberating around the room. Still half asleep he scrambled to find the device and turn it off, hand blindly reaching across Hyunwoo’s still body to stop the horrid sound. When his hand finally found the source of the screeching, he picked it up but froze when his fingers felt the form of the device.

It wasn’t his phone.

Blinking sleep from his eyes, he struggled to focus in on the block in his fingers, and stared at it in shock when it finally registered what he was holding.

His call device. It hadn’t made noise in nearly four years. 

Someone needed them for a mission. 

The thing buzzed and shook frantically in his hand but he continued to stare at it, unsure of what to think. He glanced at the digital clock on his phone, docked in its charger on his bedside. He winced. 6 A.M.? It was too damn early for this.

Hesitantly, he pressed the green button, and a second later the device shuddered, then stilled. A voice began to speak, slightly muffled by static and sounding slightly robotic.

“Good morning Kihyun.”

“Hoseok?” He mumbled.

“Yeah, it’s me. Look, I know it’s too early to be alive right now but I need to ask you something.”

“Did you have to use the call device?”

“Yes. Because I knew you wouldn’t answer your phone, and also because what I need to ask you involves a mission.”

Kihyun let out a breath, rubbing his eyes with his index finger and his thumb. “Okay, well, what is it?”

“Yesterday, one of the officers at the SMPA went through security footage around the same time Yang Jeongin was arrested. Long story short, he confirmed one of the perpetraters of the crime and our team has been selected to go get her. Thing is, she’s been located in a heavily protected building on the other side of the Han River. I’m talking all kinds of defense. Whoeve hid her has found value in her or is trying to protect her. We were chosen because we’re the best of the best, and that includes you and Hyunwoo-hyung.”

Kihyun blinked, still trying to comprehend everything Hoseok had just said to him. 

“I know it’s kind of not fair to ask you, and you’re probably a bit rusty, but we think you and Hyunwoo will be really great for this mission. Besides, this could put us one step closer to finding out who poisoned Chaemin. So, are you in, or are you out?”

Kihyun glanced over at Hyunwoo, who was awake and staring at the call device carefully. They made eye contact. Kihyun opened his mouth.

“We’re in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Time:**  
>  Hyunwoo and Kihyun do what they were raised to do. Jiyong and Seunghyun [and Daesung] are weekend babysitters. Chaeyoung makes more progress on the perpetrators.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jiyong and Seunghyun play babysitter. Kihyun and Hyunwoo do what they were raised to do. Jeongin talks.

_ Friday, 27 October, 20XX. 7:52 PM. Apartment ????, The Hill, Hannam-dong, Seoul. _

Both Seunghyun and Jiyong made to get to the door when the bell rang, sending a lovely chime echoing through the halls of the apartment. They both ended up approaching the door and reaching for the handle at the same time, and when Jiyong pulled the door open he was met with Hyunwoo, Kihyun, and Chaemin standing in the doorway. At first glance, it looked almost like they were taking some kind of family photo, with the way they were situated around each other, but Kihyun and Hyunwoo were both wearing outfits Jiyong hadn’t seen in _years_ —black jackets, black leather, black shoes. Black like death.

Kihyun’s eyes immediately found Seunghyun’s and surprise flashed in his gaze. Jiyong realized with a jolt that neither Hyunwoo or Kihyun had ever actually met Seunghyun before—he’d been the chief of the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency for nearly ten years, and he and Jiyong had had multiple run-ins while trying to do their respective jobs. Seunghyun then retired and joined Jiyong as his right-hand-man at his agency while Kihyun and Hyunwoo were on their indefinite hiatus, perhaps four years after Chaemin came along. Jiyong had intended to introduce them to Seunghyun, but then they’d killed Diablo, and Jiyong’s priorities shifted dramatically once they officially retired.

“Kihyun, Hyunwoo,” Jiyong opened the door fully, and Seunghyun stepped back before flashing a kind smile. “This is Seunghyun. My partner.”

Kihyun’s eyebrows shot past his bangs, but then his expression melted into an easy smile and he and Hyunwoo both bowed.

“Please come in,” Seunghyun said, gesturing for the little family to enter the apartment.

Jiyong’s eyes followed Chaemin. She stopped in the doorway, waiting for her parents to tell her to do or say something. She met Jiyong’s eyes suddenly, slightly catching Jiyong off guard.

Chaemin looked shockingly like Kihyun, but her eyes—she had Hyunwoo’s eyes. The longer Jiyong stared at her, the more he realized what perfection she was—a stunning blend of both of them, with Hyunwoo’s eyes and nose and Kihyun’s face, lips and smile. The only difference Jiyong could see was the fact that she wore glasses—relatively thick lenses supported by opaque, pastel pink frames. Her hair was short and wavy and she wore a jean dress over a grey long sleeved shirt that seemed a size too big. She stared at him with curiosity flickering in her dark brown eyes, and he stared right back.

“Chaemin-yah, you remember Jiyong,” Kihyun supplied. “Say hello.”

Jiyong smiled—he didn’t really expect her to remember him. She blinked at him, then dropped forwards in a gentle bow. 

“Hello, Jiyong-ssi,” She said politely. 

“Good evening, Chaemin,” Jiyong smiled at her as she straightened up. She turned her attention to Seunghyun and bowed to him as well.

Jiyong hated that this interaction was as awkward as it felt. He’d known Hyunwoo for a decade, Kihyun even longer, and this was only the third time in his life he was actually talking to Chaemin face to face. She was regarding him and Seunghyun with wide-eyed curiosity—something so childlike, so innocent. 

“Chaemin-yah, look at me,” Kihyun’s voice had her turning to face her fathers. “Remember when I told you earlier today that you’ll be staying with a friend for a couple of days? You’ll be here for tonight and maybe tomorrow night, too.”

“Where are you going?”

Kihyun sighed, smiling wanly at her. But Jiyong didn’t miss the misty, faraway look in his eyes, like he’d rather do anything but leave her behind.

“Daddy and I have something we need to do.”

“You’ll come back?”

“Of course,” Kihyun said immediately. 

Jiyong winced internally. People like Kihyun had been raised to never make that kind of promise. Promising to return from a mission was like ensuring someone they’d stay in love forever—easy to say, hard to predict, and ultimately meaningless in the end.

But how was he supposed to tell his eight year old that there was even the slightest chance he may not return? Jiyong didn’t know if even he could do that to her.

“Chaemin-ah, want to see where you’re sleeping?” Seunghyun offered kindly. He could tell that Jiyong wanted a chance to talk to Kihyun and Hyunwoo privately, and Jiyong flashed him a grateful look.

The little girl nodded and Seunghyun smiled, then reached out to take her hand. Chaemin glanced uncertainly at Kihyun, who nodded with a light smile and handed her a small backpack—Jiyong assumed it was hers, based on the pale pink color—which she slung over her shoulder. Then she placed her tiny hand into Seunghyun’s and they walked towards the stairs.

“Your apartment is really impressive,” Chaemin said as they crossed the house, eliciting a laugh from Seunghyun.

“Really impressive, huh? Thank you,” He said brightly, and their voices faded as they vanished up the stairs. Jiyong turned back to Kihyun and Hyunwoo, who looked at him expectantly. They looked better, compared to the last time he’d seen them—skin less pale, eyes less tired.

“Don’t just stand there like strangers,” He scolded, and was slightly relieved to see genuine grins cross both of their faces. “Come in, have some wine or something before you go.”

He strolled into the kitchen area without waiting for them to follow and pulled down a bottle of makgeolli and three makgeolli cups. He heard Kihyun and Hyunwoo enter the room in the slippers he’d laid on the floor by the front door, and turned to them with two cups of the opaque rice wine in his hands. He gestured for them to sit down at the table before handing them their cups and sitting down at the head with his own porcelain cup. 

“How much does she know?” Jiyong asked, gently swirling his cup. Kihyun sighed, shaking his head.

“Not a lot, I hope. But she’s smarter than we tend to give her credit for.” Kihyun sat back in his seat. Hyunwoo sipped his makgeolli. “She’s curious about everything, a little traumatized by the whole Tramadol incident… she wants to know what happened and why, but I don’t know how much to tell her. I want to keep her safe but I can’t keep her in a box forever.”

Jiyong nodded sagely, having expected this answer. Hyunwoo cleared his throat as Kihyun raised his cup to his lips.

“She.. is having a bit of a hard time right now. She’s always been smart and reads people easily—I know she can tell we’re stressed and I think it’s scaring her a little bit, which is why we’re so reluctant to tell her what she wants to know,” He said grimly. “She wants to know who made her sick, and why, but we don’t even know those two things… What’s worse is that she’s kind of on to our jobs, our lives before she came along. She doesn’t know a lot, but like any curious child, she wants to know about us. And I don’t think we could tell her even if we wanted to.”

Jiyong looked down and saw that Kihyun’s cup was already empty. He gestured towards the wine bottle, silently asking if he wanted more, but Kihyun smirked mirthlessly and held his hand up.

“Shouldn’t be drinking before a mission, hyung. You were the one who taught us that.”

Jiyong chuckled a real laugh, the first one that felt real in a few weeks.

“Touché,” He grinned.

Hyunwoo smiled tightly and put his empty cup down. “God, I really didn’t think I’d ever see myself doing this again, but alas, here we are.”

Jiyong smiled, though it felt more like a grimace and probably looked more like it as well. “It’s hard to get out of this life once you’re in it.”

Kihyun and Hyunwoo both nodded. 

“We went to the agency earlier to check in. Kept being asked if we’re back,” Hyunwoo sighed, leaning back in his chair. 

Jiyong raised an eyebrow. “Are you?” He asked bluntly.

“Dunno yet.” Hyunwoo shrugged. Kihyun didn’t answer.

“Daesung-ah and Youngbae-hyung are returning from the investigation in Jeju tonight; I think their flight just landed. I told them they could come over and meet Chaemin, since Daesung in particular wants to meet her.” Jiyong said, draining the last of his makgeolli as he changed the topic. “That’s okay, right?”

“Absolutely,” Hyunwoo nodded easily. “We wanted you, Youngbae-hyung and Daesung-hyung to meet her, since it only seems right we introduce our kid to the three men who basically raised Kihyun and trained the both of us, but.. When she was born, we just...”

Jiyong waved off the apology, knowing exactly where Hyunwoo was going with this. “Hey, we understood your reasoning then and we still do now. You don’t need to apologize. Just know that Daesung and Youngbae are going to appreciate the chance to meet her, that’s all. They’ll want to know how you guys are doing. It has been eight years, after all.”

Kihyun smiled and nodded, then glanced at the stairs. Jiyong sat back in his chair, fiddling with the empty makgeolli cup. 

“Jiyong-hyung,” Kihyun said suddenly, a curious, coy smile on his face. “Who is Seunghyun, exactly?”

“My partner,” Jiyong replied simply, keeping his eyes trained on the porcelain cup between his fingers. Kihyun smirked and leaned onto the table.

“A romantic partner?” He prodded, grinning. Hyunwoo smiled too.

Jiyong didn’t answer, but shot Kihyun a knowing look through his eyelashes, a small smile quirked on his lips. Kihyun laughed and shared a glance with Hyunwoo. 

Chaemin’s young voice pulled the three men’s attention to the stairs, where she was walking down the steps next to Seunghyun, taking the steps slowly, one at a time. Jiyong hurried to hide the bottle of makgeolli and picked up the cups from the table, placing them in the sink just as Seunghyun and Chaemin entered the kitchen. Chaemin walked straight to Hyunwoo and he lifted her into his lap as Jiyong sat back down at the table and Seunghyun stood at the counter. Seunghyun peeked into the sink and raised an eyebrow at him after looking at the wine cups, and Jiyong pointedly ignored his stare.

“Did you like the room?” Jiyong asked Chaemin. She turned big brown eyes to him—God, he’d never stop thinking about how she had Hyunwoo’s eyes—and nodded with a bright smile.

“Yeah! It was super big,” She exclaimed. “Like a living room.”

“It’s the guest room right across the hall from our room,” Seunghyun explained. “That way she’ll be close to where we are.”

Jiyong nodded; it sounded like a good plan to him, and it seemed to put Kihyun and Hyunwoo at ease. He’d noticed Kihyun getting antsy, probably nervous to leave Chaemin, and to be honest, Jiyong really couldn’t blame him. But he wanted Kihyun to trust him with her.

“Well, I think it’s time we get going,” Kihyun said after he checked his watch. “It’s eight-fifteen. They’ll be waiting for us.”

The group of five shuffled towards the door, Chaemin still somewhat clinging to Hyunwoo, who carried her with ease. He let her down to start putting his shoes on, and she anxiously watched her parents take off the guest house slippers and begin putting their shoes back on. As Jiyong watched her wring her hands, he suppressed the urge to pick her up and hold her himself. He wondered if he was physically _able_ to hold her—Hyunwoo seemed to do it with ease, but Hyunwoo was ninety-eight-percent muscle and Chaemin was absolutely _tiny._ She was already eight years old, but she was too small for someone her age—skin and bones, with angular limbs, and there was no way she was taller than four-foot. She was such a stick figure Jiyong was a little worried, but he remembered Minhyuk mentioning her weight loss as a result of her procedure and guessed that she’d definitely looked healthier prior to the incident. Regardless of whether or not he could, Jiyong figured Kihyun and Hyunwoo probably wouldn’t have a problem with him holding her, but he didn’t want to risk upsetting them, or her.

Chaemin looked nervous, a little uncomfortable. It was moments like this one where he wished he’d gotten a chance to know her better, be a part of her life before she got older. He knew he had made the right choice in respecting Kihyun and Hyunwoo’s decision to hide her from their separate lives, but the two of them were some of the best agents he’d ever worked with and Kihyun held a special place in Jiyong’s heart. Not knowing the little girl who was the center of their world made Jiyong’s heart ache a little.

“Alright, we’re off,” Kihyun said, standing before pulling Chaemin into a hug and kissing over her hair. “Be good, okay? We’ll be back tomorrow night or Sunday.”

“Okay, appa.”

Hyunwoo was next, tightly holding Chaemin to his chest. He whispered something in her ear that Jiyong wasn’t quite able to decipher. She nodded and he kissed her forehead, then stood up and faced Kihyun, who smiled weakly.

Seunghyun opened the door for them and Kihyun threw one last smile over his shoulder, first at Jiyong and then at Chaemin. Then he closed the door behind him, and it shut with a resolute _click._

For a second it was quiet, all three of them staring at the closed front door before the electric lock slid into place with a loud, tinny snap. Jiyong zoned out for a moment, but then was distracted by a tug on his pants. He looked down to see Chaemin watching him curiously, eyes big behind the lenses of her glasses.

“Can we watch _Kiki’s Delivery Service_?” She asked. “I brought my iPad and the DVD.”

“We sure can,” Jiyong smiled. “But if you want to watch it on the big TV screen, you can.”

Seunghyun began to lead her towards the living room, chatting casually with her the entire time. Jiyong gestured he’d be there in a second, to which Seunghyun nodded.

“Do you like Studio Ghibli?” Chaemin asked, her voice fading as she followed Seunghyun to the sofa.

“I _love_ Studio Ghibli.”

Jiyong smirked to himself at Seunghyun’s response, and began to deal with the empty wine cups in the sink. He put two of them in the dishwasher, but left out the one he’d used not even ten minutes prior and filled it with more makgeolli. He downed the cup in two swift sips and put up the wine before he could be swayed to drink more, then turned off the kitchen light and joined Seunghyun and Chaemin in the living room, where Seunghyun was changing the channel from SBS News to a cartoon channel. 

“What else do you like to watch, Chaemin?” Seunghyun was asking as Jiyong plopped down on the sofa a few inches away from where Chaemin sat criss-cross with her hands in her lap. 

“Um.. I like _Ponyo,_ ” She said thoughtfully. “And _My Neighbor Totoro._ Those movies are the best!”

She continued to talk about Studio Ghibli movies fondly, and Jiyong felt a smile creep onto his face as he listened to her ramble about the cute cat in Kiki’s Delivery Service. 

The life of the child next to him was a life none of Jiyong’s workers or Jiyong himself had had a chance to experience. She was born in the age of technology, and she could go to school, make friends, watch all kinds of different television shows and movies and play Pokemon and do everything Jiyong had never done as a child. He, among the majority of the agents in his agency, had spent their entire lives from early childhood training, spying, killing. To know that Chaemin was living a relatively normal life for someone her age was refreshing, even if Jiyong knew her situation wasn’t that simple or much better than the childhood he had had or the childhood Kihyun had had.

She may not have to worry about training to be the best assassin, the best spy, the best special agent—but she was born into a life that she probably wouldn’t escape. If instances like this kept happening throughout her life—and Jiyong hoped to dear God that nothing like this happened to her again—she’d be spending her entire life running from people who’d probably never even met her but wanted to take her life simply because of who her parents were. Kihyun and Hyunwoo had been raised in an environment where they absolutely have to conceal their identities, but who they are is everything—who they know, who they associate with, who they’re enemies with—it all matters. And as used as Jiyong was to this kind of life, he didn’t wish it on someone like Chaemin. Hell, he didn’t wish it on anyone. 

Jiyong didn’t pity her. He didn’t pity Kihyun or Hyunwoo either. He knew better than to pity the family—they were strong, they were brave, they were skilled and they were capable. Most importantly, though, they loved each other, and love was a different kind of strength within itself. 

_But I want to protect them,_ he thought, as Chaemin watched the televised cartoon, her eyes as big as the moon.

* * *

_ Friday, 27 October, 20XX. 11:42 PM, ????, Jeju City, Jeju Island. _

“What’s that English saying? _A penny for your thoughts_?”

From where he was bent over the open trunk of the rented Toyota Sienna, Kihyun turned his stiff neck to look up at Minhyuk, who was standing next to the car with a small handgun in his thin fingers, wispy black locks hooding his eyes. He was fidgeting with the bullets, taking them in and out again—something he always did to relax himself before a mission, just to give himself something to fidget with. The familiar sight of old, unchanged habits brought a pillowy comfort to Kihyun.

 _Plip. Plop._ Rain dripped steadily from the web of cords and wires above them, the dusty buildings on either side a sort of smoky cage. The jarring light of the red LED sign behind Minhyuk flickered and blinked, draping a blazing, neon glow over his figure and turning the dampened, oily asphalt beneath his feet into soaking fire. 

“What?” Kihyun asked, not quite sure what Minhyuk had asked him—he’d spoken in English.

“ _A penny for your thoughts._ ” Minhyuk repeated in slightly-less broken English. “I think it means, ‘what are you thinking about?’” He leaned against the side of the car, gazing at the weapons inside. “So. What are you thinking about?”

Kihyun shrugged. His mind had mainly been preoccupied with preparing for the mission. It had been nearly four years since he’d gone on any kind of organized operation—he didn’t count Diablo’s death as a planned assassination, and the mission he'd gone on before that was the last real assassination of his career—and he had surprised himself with how easily he felt he was able to settle back into routine: checking weapons for functionality, thoroughly inspecting his outfit for protection and camouflage, repeating the plan, mentally steeling himself for whatever lay ahead.

“I’m thinking about how I never would have expected I’d be back doing something like this,” He answered honestly. Minhyuk gave a wry smile, but his expression was unreadable, Kihyun noted as he looked back at Minhyuk’s face. The man nodded sagely, but didn’t say anything. Kihyun decided to continue talking, hoping to fill the sticky silence.

“I’m thinking about the best way to execute this mission; we’re technically ‘arresting’ someone, not killing them. I’m thinking about whether or not I’ll do something like this again.” Kihyun continued, mouth moving faster than his brain. “I’m thinking about how I realize I miss the adrenaline rush, the familiarity, I miss working alongside you and the others—I miss doing what I was trained to do. I’m thinking about how there really is no escape from this life. I’m thinking about coming back to work—how it would affect our lives, how it would affect Hyunwoo, how it would affect Chaemin. Chae. I’m thinking about my daughter.”

Thoughts of his bespectacled daughter flashed behind his eyes like a slideshow, and he found himself reminded of his priorities as he gazed at each snapshot. Minhyuk watched him think for a minute, and Minhyuk held his gaze. His gaze was calculating and cool, as if he were reading Kihyun like a book, sizing him up, but there was something soft in his eyes—a warmth underneath the chill. 

“There’s no place safer for her to be right now than with Jiyong,” Minhyuk said slowly.

Kihyun nodded easily; he knew that. Of course he knew that. It was the foremost reason why he’d instantly accepted Jiyong’s offer to watch Chaemin for the weekend. He knew that Jiyong was, without a doubt, the _only_ one he could trust with his daughter’s life. Because he’d known Jiyong for almost twenty-five years, and Jiyong would put himself in between a bullet and any of his agents if it came down to it. 

That was just who Jiyong was. When he’d told Kihyun that he would treat Chaemin no differently, Kihyun had believed him in a heartbeat. 

Jiyong was as close to a father figure as Kihyun had ever had. Returning to being under Jiyong’s quiescent guidance, under Jiyong’s owlish eye, under Jiyong’s subtle care, and placing his daughter under the same treatment—it felt strangely new and refreshing, but also a familiar continuation. A salty wave of bittersweet nostalgia swished through Kihyun’s core. If he couldn’t trust Jiyong, then he couldn’t trust anyone. 

“I know that.” Kihyun stood up, a glock in his hand. “But someone is out to get her.”

He slammed the trunk of the car closed with a bit more force than necessary, a resounding clunk piercing the dark night, and turned to peer at Minhyuk straight in the face. Minhyuk stared right back, but Kihyun wasn’t able to read his expression. He was gazing long and hard at Kihyun, barely blinking—which was highly uncharacteristic of Minhyuk and raised the hair on the back of Kihyun’s neck—and he didn’t break eye contact with him.

“I’m doing this for her,” He growled. Minhyuk didn’t break his gaze. “I don’t know who decided to poison her, or why, but whoever did it… they picked the wrong family to mess with. I’ve made a lot of enemies and a lot of allies doing what I do, Minhyuk. I don’t care what you call this—a beginning, a continuation, whatever. But I’m back in this life and I’m back for good.”

He cocked the gun for emphasis.

Minhyuk blinked, then nodded slowly. 

“Let’s go, then.”

* * *

_ Friday, 27 October, 20XX. 11:50 PM, ????, Jeju City, Jeju Island. _

“Okay, here we go,” Hoseok said sharply once all six of them had gathered around him. His hulk-like muscles were barely hidden by the fabric of his black shirt, but the huge gun strapped to his back took away from most of his body bulk, making him look more like a walking weapon. 

Actually, Kihyun thought mirthlessly, they were all walking weapons. Hyungwon and Changkyun were both holding their sniper rifles, decked out in black—the only visible bit of Hyungwon’s entire body were his eyes, piercing and snakelike, and Changkyun’s beanie blended excellently with the charcoal of his hair and face mask. Three handguns had been looped into Jooheon’s belt and his leather jacket glinted dully under the sick light of a streetlamp. Minhyuk had pulled his black med mask up around his mouth and slipped his hood over his head, further shadowing his eyes. Hyunwoo had also darkened, his eyes shaded and a semi-automatic rifle attached to his hip, along with his trademark butterfly knife. Kihyun himself had shifted into a shadow, wearing leather and carrying four weapons total.

Their game faces were on wide display, and Kihyun studied it intently. It had been so long.

“This building has three floors total, each one with at least fifty different trained bodyguards, bouncers, whatever. The girl is in the room in the rightmost corner of the top floor. Changkyun and Hyungwon, you’re going to get to the top of the building as fast as you can. Jooheon, you go with them, serve as a third pair of eyes. Kihyun and Hyunwoo-hyung, you’re in charge of the girl. Changkyun, Hyungwon and Jooheon will forge a path for you. Minhyuk and I will bring up the rear. Don’t split up unless it’s necessary, and Kihyun, follow the path the snipers set for you. Remember, the goal isn’t to kill the girl. You have the chloroform?”

Kihyun tapped the left pocket of his leather jacket, shaking the bottle. Liquid swished against the plastic as confirmation. Hoseok nodded, then put his hand in the center. Everyone else followed suit.

“Go.”

Hyungwon and Changkyun darted into the building faster than lightning, their steps silent upon the wet asphalt, and Jooheon followed a second later, kicking down the old door that served as a back entrance. The warehouse—if it could even be called that, it looked more like an abandoned storage unit—was still in use, but it was small, old, dusty, and right in the center of an alley that was more or less deserted in the poorest part of Jeju City, in the middle of nowhere with boarded up windows, rotting wooden doors, and crumbling foundation. People darkened by harsh lives and cold nights slunk through the alley’s streets, catlike eyes glaring through the fog. Really, it was a genius place to hide a person. But the distinct amount of hired protection gave away the secret—guards were stationed up and down the street, in shadows, around the warehouse and inside. Even from a distance it was easy to see the heaviness of the protection, with hooded figures prowling the premises like cats looking for prey. The way the guards seemed to be staggered both inside and outside the warehouse was actually quite clever. 

They were smart, but Kihyun’s team was smarter.

Rapid gunfire from inside, followed by the clatter of bullets on cement, floated towards where Kihyun, Hyunwoo, Hoseok and Minhyuk crouched in the shadows of the alley near the back entrance. There was shouting, then more gunfire, then silence.

Then Jooheon appeared in the doorway and nodded.

Kihyun and Hyunwoo crept forwards, moving deliberately and swiftly towards the back door. The smell of mold and dust assaulted Kihyun first, then he looked down and saw at least ten guards strewn across the floor. Jooheon was moving towards the leftmost wall, sliding against the stained drywall, Changkyun was knelt in the threshold of a doorway across the room, gun pointed at something Kihyun couldn’t see, and Hyungwon was nowhere in sight.

Changkyun’s gun barely made noise as he fired twice, a sharp whooshing sound replacing the noise of bullets and gunpower. A second later, there was the sound of bodies hitting the hard ground. And Changkyun looked back at where Kihyun and Hyunwoo were ducked underneath the boarded up windows by the back door. He jerked his head towards Jooheon, who moved like a cat to slide past him and into the hallway. After giving the all clear to Hoseok and Minhyuk, Kihyun and Hyunwoo followed him.

Two dead guards were slumped against each wall, Kihyun noted, as he and Hyunwoo carefully slipped down the hallway, Kihyun with his back to the left wall and Hyunwoo pressed against the right. Jooheon and Changkyun were still a few feet ahead of them, guns loaded and cocked, and Kihyun looked behind him just as Minhyuk crawled into the hallway, Hoseok on his tail.

Changkyun stopped at the end of the hallway and held his hand up, and everyone behind him halted. Kihyun took a second to assess his surroundings. A little ahead of him was an open door, but a quick peek inside told him it was empty, save for machinery that looked so old it might crumble to dust if he touched it. The windows on the first floor of the warehouse were boarded with mildewy plywood, but the windows on the top two floors were not. He remembered being told that the first floor of the warehouse was used mainly for storage; he figured the second and third floor would be where most of the action was. 

The swift shwoosh of a sniper bullet tore his attention back to the end of the hallway, where a set of big stairs was visible adjacent to where Changkyun knelt at the corner. A second later Hyungwon rounded the corner, rifle pointed at something over Changkyun’s shoulder.

“Shit—”

A loud voice yelled, then Hyungwon fired the gun, and a hollow thud followed. Changkyun lifted his gun and before Kihyun could blink—

_**Swoosh!** _

Someone fell down the stairs behind Hyungwon, landing in a heap at Hyungwon’s feet, blood splattered on the cement steps. 

Hyungwon and Changkyun moved faster than lightning, bolting up the stairs side by side, firing their weapons at rapid speed. Jooheon trailed behind them, wielding two loaed handguns, and then all three of them vanished up the stairs.

Machine gunfire echoed from the top floor. 

A gunshot from behind Kihyun made him whip around, startled. Minhyuk was on his feet, handgun aimed at a guard who was now pressed against a plywood board at the far end of the fall. His mouth gaped as he struggled for breath, hands clutching the spot on his chest he appeared to be bleeding from, and his gun clattered to the floor. Hoseok made eye contact with Kihyun and Hyunwoo and pointed towards the stairs. Kihyun and Hyunwoo nodded, and Kihyun unhooked one of the handguns from his waist. Hyunwoo, who had always been better with blades and hand-to-hand combat, unstrapped his butterfly knife from where it was velcroed to his thigh. They made eye contact. Something glimmered in Hyunwoo’s eye, but it was gone before Kihyun could identify it, and Hyunwoo flashed a tiny smile. Kihyun returned it. Then Hyunwoo began to move towards the stairs, and Kihyun followed him. 

As soon as Hyunwoo and Kihyun stepped onto the second floor, light flooded his eyes, forcing him to blink rapidly to adjust to the change in lighting. The first floor had been pretty much pitch black, forcing Kihyun to watch for shadowed movement, but the second floor was drenched in harsh fluorescence, flickering rods illuminating shiny blood and scattered bullets. 

Changkyun, Jooheon, and Hyungwon had vanished. Hyunwoo and Kihyun kept close together as they made slow, careful steps further into the corridor, stepping over bodies and walking on eggshells to not make any noise. 

Kihyun’s hackles raised when he heard a click from somewhere to his right, a little behind him. He whirled around, gun aimed. 

_**Bang!** _

The guard fell to the floor, bleeding from the hole Kihyun’s bullet had put right between his temple. Another man, dressed in grey, leapt at Hyunwoo, who reacted just in time, slashing with his blade to disarm him, sending his rifle skidding across the cement.

Everything following that moment was chaos. Hoseok and Minhyuk appeared at some point, and every now and then Kihyun would see a flash of Changkyun’s clothing, a bit of Jooheon’s hair, or the glimmer of Hyungwon’s eyes, but the majority of what he was able to comprehend was gunshots, the clinking of bullets, and the dull sound of limp, lifeless bodies hitting the floor. 

Guards were everywhere; Hoseok wasn’t lying about that. They were like ants, attacking from all sides. Kihyun wasn’t really able to feel or think. He was pure adrenaline, limbs moving faster than his brain, reflexes and instincts kicking in and moving his body for him. His gun fired bullet after bullet, and once it was empty, he reached for another. 

Later, when Kihyun would think back about this, he might find himself horrified at how he was able to become nothing but a killer, a shell of a person who moved without thinking, taking lives and barely blinking while doing it. Remove himself emotionally from the rest of his body, turn off his thoughts, and let his fingers pull the trigger over and over again.

But if he tried to count the number of times he’d thought about what he did, he’d surely go crazy. 

In moments like this, all he could think about was his survival. Hyunwoo’s survival. The survival of his team. 

After all, that’s what they were doing, wasn’t it? Surviving. 

Kihyun was out of breath when the gunfire faded, leaving a sheet of thin smoke fluttering in the room. Hyunwoo, with blood down the front of his shirt, stood a little to his left, panting. Changkyun and Hyungwon were nowhere to be seen. Jooheon and Hoseok were entirely across the room, leaning on each other to catch their breath.

A groan of pain sent a jolt down Kihyun’s spine. He whipped around, and his eyes widened in horror.

Minhyuk was leaning against the wall, bloody hand clutching his left shoulder. His head was dipped forward, obscuring Kihyun’s view of his face, but Kihyun didn’t need to see his eyes to know he was in pain. He darted forward at the same time Jooheon and Hoseok began moving across the room to get to him.

“Shit, Min,” Kihyun breathed, not quite sure what to do. “How did—”

“He was gonna get you,” Minhyuk ground out, tilted his head back to look at Kihyun. He slid down the wall to sit against it, and Kihyun went down with him just as Hoseok and Jooheon approached.

“Who? What?” Kihyun demanded, eyes zeroed in on the wound, bleeding sluggishly through his clenched fingers. 

Minhyuk didn’t answer, just exhaled shortly and turned his head to look at something. Kihyun looked as well; a dead man lay face down on the floor barely three feet away. It clicked in Kihyun’s brain. He felt sick as he looked back at Minhyuk, who was grinning lazily at him.

“You have a baby girl to get back home to,” He slurred, eyes fluttering. 

“Shit, Min, no,” Kihyun grabbed his face and shook him. “Don’t fucking do this to me. You’re going to be fine.”

He ignored the way his voice cracked.

“There’s no exit wound,” Hoseok said sharply. “The bullet is still in there. Jooheon-ah, you come with me—call the on-duty medic closest to us. We’re backing out.”

Jooheon did as he was told without hesitating, fishing his call device from the frontmost pocket of his leather jacket and pressing three times, the universal code for a medic. Then he unhooked the two unused guns from his waist and held them out to Kihyun. He stared at them.

“Take them, hyung,” Jooheon urged, and Kihyun fumbled to do so. “We’ll be fine. He’ll be fine.”

Kihyun glanced back at Minhyuk. Hoseok was carrying him bridal style, and Minhyuk had passed out against Hoseok’s chest. At some point, Hoseok had wrapped torn fabric from his shirt around Minhyuk’s armpit, a makeshift tourniquet to stem the bleeding until they could get some help. Kihyun looked back at Jooheon, eyes hard.

“All three of you better make it out alive,” He snapped. Jooheon blinked, then his eyes narrowed.

“Same for you and the others, then,” He shot back. 

“Dun’ worry, Ki,” Minhyuk mumbled, head lolling to the side to look at him. His eyes were hazy; he was fading fast. “I’ll be okay.”

“There is no ‘I’, Minhyuk,” Kihyun startled himself with how angry his voice sounded. “There is no ‘I'. It’s ‘we.’”

Minhyuk smiled dopily. “Gotcha.”

“Go. You’re almost done. The girl, Shin Ryujin, she’s in the rightmost corner of the top floor.” Hoseok ordered, turning towards the stairs. “We’re gonna be fine. Just go.”

Kihyun hesitated, but Hyunwoo’s hand on his elbow grounded him, pulling him towards the second set of stairs. Hyunwoo didn’t let go even as Kihyun began to follow him. Just as they approached the stairway, Kihyun looked over his shoulder. Hoseok, Jooheon, and Minhyuk had gone, like silent cats in the night, leaving only a dark pool of blood to signify that they’d ever been there. 

“Ki,” Hyunwoo murmured. Kihyun turned around and his face met Hyunwoo’s neck, then Hyunwoo’s arms were around him. Kihyun let himself be comforted, even if just for a moment, as if everything was perfectly fine, perfectly normal. 

“Let’s go, yeah?” Hyunwoo mumbled in Kihyun’s ear.

Kihyun closed his eyes and nodded against his neck. Hyunwoo pulled away, and Kihyun momentarily mourned the loss of his warm, comforting arms, but just as quickly steeled himself again, easily turning himself into a cold shell, an unfeeling assassin, just as he’d done since he was eleven years old. He grit his teeth, cocked the gun in his hand. 

“Let’s go.”

They met Changkyun and Hyungwon halfway up the stairs. Both of them looked hot and sweaty and breathless, and Changkyun was missing his beanie. Hyungwon’s expression turned puzzled as Hyunwoo and Kihyun climbed the rest of the stairs.

“Where are the others? Jooheon was right behind us,” Hyungwon asked breathlessly.

“Minhyuk was hit,” Hyunwoo said gravely. “Shoulder. No exit wound. Hoseok and Jooheon are backing out, taking him to a medic. He’ll be fine.”

Changkyun and Hyungwon shared a nervous look, but nodded nonetheless. 

“I think the second floor was where most of the guards were. No one was meant to survive that floor, I’m guessing.” Hyungwon explained, voice low. “We’ve taken out the other guards in this floor. There weren’t many.”

“There’s probably a trap somewhere, then,” Kihyun muttered. Changkyun and Hyungwon nodded. 

“Rightmost corner of the top floor, that’s where the girl is. Also a bomb,” Changkyun whispered.

Kihyun had to resist the urge to laugh out loud. Of course, of course there would be a bomb.

“Is there any other way to get to the girl?” Hyunwoo asked. 

“We don’t know yet. She hasn’t been here very long; the bomb is new-ish, set not long ago. And the SMPA only managed to track her down as of last night, and they only found her because of the protection and several sightings of her entering this building.”

“By who?”

“Maybe workers? Farmers? I don’t know.”

“That doesn’t make sense, though,” Kihyun said thoughtfully. “This area is abandoned for a reason; whoever is hiding her picked this place because no one ever comes to this part of Jeju City. It’s abandoned for a reason.”

“It might have been one of the guards,” Hyungwon said in a hushed tone. “No one else would have known she was coming here.”

“Is she aware we’re here?”

“Probably. If the gunfire didn’t alert her, then I don’t know what would have. This building isn’t exactly soundproof.” 

“Halt.”

All four of them whirled around at the sound of a new voice, hands on their weapons immediately. A man in black was standing in the shadows of the corridor, but he wasn’t holding any kind of weapon. Kihyun aimed his glock anyway, cocking it threateningly.

“Wait. I’m not here to hurt you,” The man said; his voice was deep and low. “I’m the one who called the SMPA to tell them the girl is here.”

“How do we trust you?” Hyunwoo grit out, hand visibly tightening around the handle of his knife. 

“I’ll dismantle the bomb.” The man said, his tone calm and careful. Kihyun approached him, and despite the fact that he was at least four inches shorter than the taller guard, held the handgun to his head.

“One wrong move and I shoot you,” Kihyun snarled. 

The tall guard seemed to be expecting this, and nodded slowly. 

He then lead the group to the end of the hallway. Sure enough, a timebomb was attached to an old wooden door. Kihyun didn’t move the gun, only tightened his grip on the handle as the guard knelt down on one knee, beginning to fiddle with the wires of the bomb. Kihyun watched him carefully while Hyunwoo, Changkyun, and Hyungwon stood behind him.

“Are there guards in there?” Kihyun asked softly.

The man nodded.

“How many?”

“Two.”

The group fell silent again as the man continued dismantling the device. Eventually, the thing beeped, then the clock on the screen faded to black. Kihyun lowered the gun as the man stood.

“Why?” Kihyun asked simply as the man turned to face him.

“I hate the woman she lives with, the woman who hid her here. I’d love to see her fall,” He said, tone blank and void of emotion. It would have sent shivers down Kihyun’s spine if it wasn’t a tone he was so familiar with. “I have one request.”

Kihyun didn’t answer, just raised his eyebrows a little, allowing the man to continue.

“Don’t tell them it was me. Let me escape.” He continued, tone taking on a pleading lilt. 

“Go,” Kihyun hissed.

The man dipped his head in thanks, then turned away without a word and slunk down the hallway. Kihyun waited to watch his head vanish down the stairs before turning to Changkyun, Hyunwoo, and Hyungwon. Kihyun readied his gun again, moving aside to let Hyunwoo approach the door. 

All it took was one swift kick to knock it in completely. Hyunwoo ducked into the room just as the gunfire started. A girl started screaming.

_**Swoosh!** _

Changkyun’s sniper bullet whizzed through the air as Kihyun looked into the room. One of two guards collapsed onto his front, gun tumbling to the cement. Hyunwoo was dealing with the other guard, skillfully using the handle of his knife to disarm the guard and then slash at his throat. Blood sprayed the back wall as Kihyun’s eyes fell upon the curled up figure on a mattress in the left corner.

The girl was practically a ball on the spring mattress, protectively tucked in on herself, but Kihyun didn’t miss the loaded handgun on the fabric next to her hand. He made as little noise as possible as he crept towards her, fishing for the bottle of chloroform and the cloth in his inside jacket pocket. Hyunwoo stepped back as the guard he was dealing with slumped over, all the life sucked out of his body, and then turned towards the girl as Changkyun and Hyungwon slid into the room.

The girl sat up as Kihyun was about a foot from where she lay. She yelled in shock and lunged for her gun, but just as quickly, Kihyun batted it away, sending it skittering across the floor, where Hyunwoo stopped it with his foot. She shrieked again, scrambling away from Kihyun until she was backed against the wall.

“Calm down,” He mumbled, trying to be gentle. “Shin Ryujin?”

“Please don’t hurt me,” She whimpered and looked up, giving Kihyun a clear look at her face. Her skin was pale and glowing in the moonlight pouring in from the window, but her eyes were wide and terrified. Her hair fell in messy, fuzzy rivulets down to her collarbone and was the color of pastel pink, the texture and color making it look a bit like cotton candy. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” He said lowly. 

She didn’t move as he reached for her, seemingly having resigned herself to whatever fate she thought she was going to suffer. The fight left her in an instant and she let Kihyun raise the soaked chloroform-soaked cloth to her mouth. One breath in, and she was out like a light, falling limply to the mattress below her. Kihyun watched her collapse, tears glimmering on her cheeks as her chest rose and fell.

“Team X to HQ. X to HQ,” Hyungwon had taken out his call device and was talking into it, eyes on the unconscious girl in front of Kihyun. 

“Mission complete.”

* * *

_ Saturday, 28 October, 20XX. 9:33 AM. Apartment ????, The Hill, Hannam-dong, Seoul. _

“Morning,” Daesung yawned as he thudded down the steps one at a time. Only Youngbae replied to him; Jiyong nodded in greeting over his tea and Seunghyun hummed, too immersed in cooking to greet him properly. Daesung didn’t seem too bothered by it, though, and plopped into the dining table chair across from Jiyong. 

“When does Hyorin want you home, Youngbae?” Seunghyun asked distractedly from his place at the stove. Jiyong watched Youngbae shrug.

“She’s out all day today. As long as I’m back by, like, seven, I think I’ll be alright,” Youngbae guessed, absentmindedly swirling his coffee with a spoon.

“What about you, Daesung?”

“I’ll probably go back to my apartment around noon,” The man rubbed at his eyes. 

“Anything from Kihyun or his team?” Youngbae turned his attention to Jiyong, and Daesung looked expectantly at him as well.

Jiyong slowly shook his head. “It’s still too early. I was doing my own research on the building; the girl they’re after is probably priceless to someone, given the amount of security.”

“Do they even know who’s trying to protect the girl?” Daesung asked, furrowing his brows. Jiyong shook his head again. 

“Maybe they had a relation to Diablo,” Seunghyun mumbled thoughtfully.

“It’s starting to look like that’s the case,” Jiyong sighed, putting his mug down on the table. “I think that’s why Kihyun is so desperate to protect Chaemin.”

“I’ve known Chaemin for less than twenty-four hours and I’m desperate to protect her,” Daesung muttered. Jiyong agreed silently.

“I don’t understand why all of this is happening now,” Youngbae pulled at his hair frustratedly. “I mean—Diablo’s been dead for literally three years. And only now is someone after Kihyun and Hyunwoo. I don’t think I’ve ever hated a man more than I hated Diablo—I still do, the man may be dead but he’s still a piece of sh—”

“Good morning, Chaemin-yah!” Daesung greeted loudly, tossing a warning glance at Youngbae, who quickly shut his mouth with a snap. Jiyong snorted, and turned to face the stairs, where Chaemin was quietly making her way down one step at a time, Kuri dangling limply from her left hand while the other was tightly gripping the stairway railing.

“Good morning,” She replied, rubbing at her eye under her glasses once she was safely on the floor. 

She gazed around at the four men for a moment before giving a shy smile—behind him somewhere Jiyong heard Daesung coo—and approaching the table. Jiyong smiled back at her, then reached over to pull the chair next to him away from the table. She climbed up onto the chair and sat down, blinking up at him.

“What would you like for breakfast, Chaemin?” Seunghyun asked, setting a plate of banchans on the table in front of Jiyong and Daesung.

“Um.. I’m not really hungry,” She mumbled. “Thank you, though.”

Jiyong saw Seunghyun frown. She’d eaten dinner the night before at her own house and hadn’t had anything since then. Jiyong had gotten a text from Kihyun within thirty minutes of them leaving mentioning that she may struggle to eat a little bit but regardless of whatever she said, she still needed to eat. 

“How about fruit? Some soy milk?” Seunghyun offered calmly, resting a soothing hand on Jiyong’s shoulder. Chaemin shrugged. Seunghyun took that as an affirmative, apparently, because he turned to the fridge and began rummaging around. 

Chaemin reached up and pulled her glasses off her face, and fidgeted with them in her hands for a second before slowly turning to face Jiyong. He watched her kindly, smiling a little at her expression.

“Can you please clean these?” She asked quietly, holding out the tiny pink frames.

“Sure,” Jiyong took the glasses from her and used the hem of his shirt to start scrubbing the lenses, marveling a little at the thickness of such small glasses. She probably got her eyesight from Hyunwoo—the man was a god at manipulation and one of Jiyong’s best at hand-to-hand combat, but he wasn’t the best sharpshooter due to his generally poor sight. 

It was then that Jiyong remembered that Chaemin was also physically disabled—a heart defect. He’d talked to Minhyuk about it a little bit, since he was the one who saw her the most, but as far as he was concerned, it wasn’t severe enough to demand a transplant or even surgery to fix the defunct valve. The bitterness in which Minhyuk talked about Chaemin’s doctors had always slightly appalled Jiyong, but now he was beginning to understand it.

Jiyong had just finished cleaning the lenses and handed the glasses back to her when Seunghyun set a plate of around twenty watermelon blocks and a small cup of soy milk on the table in front of her. Daesung and Youngbae had already eaten half of the banchan, but Jiyong didn’t really mind—he wasn’t particularly hungry, and he knew their investigative trip in Jeju the past month had taken a lot out of them, so he let them have as much as they wanted, instead hoping that Chaemin would do the same.

But Chaemin eyed the fruit and milk warily, making no movement to take the food. Jiyong watched her carefully, unsure what to make of her response. Maybe she was waiting for permission.

“You can eat, Chae,” He prompted kindly. All four men were watching her now—something she seemed to be aware of, judging by the way the tips of her ears were pink—and she slowly raised her cautious gaze from the fruit to Seunghyun, who was waiting expectantly for her to say or do something.

“Is it safe?” She asked, her voice small, and Jiyong’s heart dropped to his stomach.

She wasn’t waiting for permission— _she was scared to eat._ His hand tightened around the mug of tea, which had long gone cold, and in his peripheral he saw Daesung and Youngbae share a sad look. 

“It’s safe, honey,” Seunghyun said softly, smiling tightly. “I promise there’s nothing it in that will hurt you.”

“We can eat it together, okay?” Jiyong said, picking up one of the chunks of watermelon and waiting for her to do the same. She did so, carefully selecting a smaller block and looking up at Jiyong patiently, seemingly waiting for him to do something. He bit into the watermelon, remembering halfway through he didn’t particularly care for watermelon, but hummed like he enjoyed it anyway. “Mmm.”

Watching him, Chaemin took a tentative bite out of her own piece and chewed slowly. He smiled encouragingly at her, and then Daesung reached across the table to take a piece of watermelon for himself, biting into it happily. Seeing the others eat the watermelon, she thankfully continued eating, and the kitchen resumed, Daesung and Youngbae still eating from the banchan, Jiyong quietly sipping his cold tea, and Chaemin slowly working her way through the plate of fruit. Jiyong was happy that she was eating. She seemed tense, almost as if she was waiting to start feeling ill, and remained so until she had finished five or six blocks of watermelon. She then gently pushed the plate away, and stared at her hands. There were still about ten pieces of watermelon on the plate, but Jiyong was satisfied with how much she’d made herself eat.

Seunghyun, however, looked at the remaining chunks of melon on the plate with dismay. “Do you want to eat a little more?”

Chaemin, however, looked a little pale. “No thank you.”

Seunghyun didn’t push her and let Daesung have the rest of the watermelon, and Jiyong spent the rest of breakfast chatting with Youngbae, Daesung, and Seunghyun while Chaemin sipped her soy milk silently.

* * *

_ Saturday, 28 October, 20XX. 2:12 PM. Apartment ????, The Hill, Hannam-dong, Seoul. _

“Hey, Jiyong.”

Jiyong looked up at Seunghyun, who was leaning against the doorframe to Jiyong’s office. Jiyong blinked tiredly at him, eyes slightly blurred from looking at a computer screen for a while, and smiled wearily. 

“What’s up?” He asked, leaning back in his chair until his spine popped. 

“The X Team returned.”

Jiyong was suddenly wide awake. “What? When?”

“Early this morning, I think. Daesung just got the message.”

“And I didn’t?” Jiyong demanded. “How did it go? Are they okay?”

“The mission is completed. They brought the girl into custody around 10 am this morning.” Seunghyun calmly. Too calmly. Jiyong narrowed his eyes.

“There’s something you’re not telling me. What about the members of the team?”

“Minhyuk was shot.”

_“What?”_

“Jiyong, he’ll be alright. Daesung talked briefly to Hoseok, who explained that Minhyuk jumped in front of a bullet that was meant for Kihyun. It hit him in the shoulder, but there was no exit wound. Apparently Hoseok and Jooheon backed out to get him medical help, and it was because they did that he’ll be alright.” 

“Jesus Christ…” Jiyong rubbed his face with his hands. “Where are they now?”

“All seven of them are currently at Asan in Pungnap-dong,” Seunghyun replied. “Daesung thinks we should go there, bring Chaemin-ah with us. That way Kihyun and Hyunwoo don’t have to try to make round trips to come get her.”

“That sounds fine,” Jiyong breathed as he stood, raking a hand through his hair. “I don’t understand. I’m always the first to know when a team comes back from a mission. Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“I don’t know, Ji,” Seunghyun answered honestly. “Daesung only just got the message himself. It came in not even ten minutes ago.”

“Who sent it?”

“Hoseok did.”

Just then, Jiyong’s call device lit up with a horrible shudder. Hoseok’s name flashed on the screen. Jiyong sighed and grabbed it off the desk, ceasing the God-awful screeching and accepting the call. 

“Jiyong-hyung.”

“Hoseok, you told Daesung before me? And so late in the day?”

“Boss…”

“Whatever. You’re all at Asan?”

“Yes sir.”

“How is Minhyuk?”

“Awake and talking, sir. He’ll be fine.”

“Great. Stay there, we’re on our way.”

“Wait, hyung.”

“Hm?”

“There’s something else. Doctor Park Chaeyoung fingerprinted the girl, Shin Ryujin, and confirmed that she used the pipe on the murder victim. They also looked through the security footage again; it’s her.”

“Huh,” Jiyong shared a look with Seunghyun, who looked equally as surprised.

“But that’s not all. Detective Manoban and Detective Kim want you to talk to the kid in the holding cell. Yang Jeongin? They want you to interrogate him.”

“Why me? Are they there with you?”

“They left earlier, sir, but they were pretty adamant that it be you.”

“Why?”

“They think he’s somehow connected to Diablo, sir.”

Jiyong was stunned into silence. Seunghyun’s eyebrows shot past his bangs. 

“How?”

“Both he and someone named Han Sanghyuk mentioned that his former boss died about three years ago.”

“In July?”

“In July.”

“Shit,” Jiyong rubbed his forehead. “Alright. I’ll interrogate him. When do they want me?”

“They said October 30th, sir.”

“That’s late.”

“Yeah, it is. I don’t know what their plan is.”

“Okay, I’ll tell them I accept. Also, we’re on our way and we’re bringing Chaemin with us. Are you all decent? Not bloody or anything?”

“Yeah, we’re all changed and showered. We.. waited to tell you if this mission was a success because we wanted to hear about Minhyuk first, make sure he’s okay. Kihyun, Hyunwoo, Hyungwon and Changkyun dropped the girl off at the SMPA at 2 in the morning and then met Jooheon and I here, in Pungnap-dong. We’ve been here since then; we only just got news about Minhyuk.”

Jiyong felt bad about snapping, now. He rubbed the back of his neck, making eye contact with Seunghyun across the room. He smiled gently in encouragement; Jiyong flashed a sheepish smile back.

“Alright. We’re on our way,” He sighed. “We’ll be there in about an hour.”

“See you then, boss.”

* * *

_ Monday, 30 October, 20XX. 3:26 PM. Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, Sajik-Dong, Seoul. _

“Good afternoon, Jeongin.”

“...Good afternoon.”

Jiyong wearily took in his appearance. The boy looked ragged, and sick; through his baggy t-shirt, Jiyong could count the kid’s ribs and his cheekbones were sharp and gaunt, poking through the thin skin of his face. He regarded Jiyong with such a horrid level of distrust. Jiyong had seen that kind of distrust before, but never on a kid so young. 

“Okay, I’m going to get straight to the point,” Jiyong sighed, not wanting to torture the kid. 

“I didn’t do anything.”

“I’m not that kind of cop. I’m here to ask you something else. I need you to try your hardest to answer honestly.”

Jeongin stared at him, eyes blank but narrowed. 

“You left your home when you were around twelve years old and worked for someone who later died in an accident. I need you to tell me your employer’s name.”

Jeongin’s eyes flashed in despair—something else Jiyong recognized. Jiyong hated having to trigger memories that were so clearly traumatizing, but it was the only way to find out the truth.

“I never knew his first name. I only saw him a few times at all. I worked mainly under his associates.”

“What did you do? What was your life like?”

“I.. My friends and I—me, Ryujin, and Jisung…. we didn’t have much. We were rejected by our families, he took us in, kind of. It wasn’t under the best of terms, but we made the most of it. We didn’t do a whole lot; we cleaned, mostly, and cooked for those higher up in his ranks, I guess. We were kinda like servants. A lot of the people who worked for him treated us badly, like we were always below them, but things never got really physical and we had a place to eat and sleep. It wasn't the best but I guess it could have been worse.”

“And your boss?”

“I didn’t know him. Like I said, my friends and I joined his association because we had nowhere and no one and one of his workers let us follow him back. I only heard about him through gossip and eavesdropping. He never seemed like the best person, based on what I heard of him. Was always there, but more of a ghost.”

“You never really met him, though, did you?”

“I met him once. Ryujin, Jisung and I started making plans to try to leave when we figured out who he really was; what his job was. He and his best friend, his closest associate—they were monsters. I was so scared. I didn’t want to be a part of what they did; none of us did.”

Jiyong’s heart rate began to quicken. 

“His name, kid. What was it?”

“I told you, I never knew. He died, like, three weeks later. He’d started to go a little crazy toward the end of his life.”

“Did he have an alias? Any kind of code name or nickname?”

“Only one, that I knew of.”

“What was it?”

“Diablo.”

Everything froze. Jiyong stared in horror at Jeongin, who looked almost like he was about to cry. His mouth opened and closed; he was completely speechless. But Jeongin kept talking.

“Ga Chanyong… they were b-best friends,” He stammered, hands making white fists in the wrinkled fabric of his shirt. “I was maybe fifteen… wa-walked in on them talking about someone named Shownu. They wanted to kill him. Diablo, he—he was so _angry._ I kn-knew we had-had to leave… Oh, god..”

The kid broke down into horrid sobs, but Jiyong had no idea what to do or say. His head was spinning; everything was happening all at once. 

Jeongin was just a kid. He had no business in this life, the life Jiyong lived, the life Diablo had lived—and yet, here he was. His life had been destroyed before it had even begun, as he sat in a police interrogationg room at the age of eighteen. 

Jiyong reached over to take the kid’s hand, clasped it tight. 

Jeongin made no move to pull away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Time:**  
>  Jisung gets caught. Kihyun and Minhyuk have a moment. Jennie solves the crime. Ryujin talks. Kihyun has to do something.
> 
> (Also!! I have a Jookyun surprise coming up! Stay tuned for a new story!)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisung gets caught, he talks. Ryujin talks. Jennie puts an end to the case. Kihyun and Hyunwoo think, and they talk.

_ Friday, 3 November, 20XX. 5:51 PM. Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, Sajik-dong, Seoul. _

_“Jisung!”_

Jennie leapt about a foot in the air as Jeongin’s screech echoed through the holding cells and he slammed against the bars of his cell. She whirled around to look at him, and out of the corner of her eye saw Sanghyuk, in a cell across the room, also pinning himself against the door of his cell. 

“Jisung, baby,” Jeongin choked out, breath ragged and hard. “Wha..what are you doing here? I told you to run without me!”

“You didn’t come back,” replied a weak voice. “”I wasn’t gonna leave without you.”

Jennie turned to face the doors. Her chest sank at what she saw. 

After four days of pretty much nothing, no leads or sightings of anyone else related to the case, Lisa held a tiny brunette by his cuffed wrists. His appearance was similar to that of Jeongin’s; too exhausted for someone so young, someone who’d done nothing but suffer his entire life. His shirt and pants hung from his angular shoulders and hips, his cheeks sunken in, making him look a lot older than she knew he was. 

“Park Jisung,” Lisa said, voice grim as she stared Jennie straight in the face. “Someone called in a sighting of him in Itaewon. Yeonjun was doing a patrol in that area; got him pretty easily.”

Jennie ran a hand over her face.

“That kid deserves a raise or a promotion,” She mumbled tiredly, and Lisa nodded. 

Jennie gave the kid another once over. He kept staring at Jeongin, who stared right back, almost like they were having a silent conversation. Sanghyuk, from his cell in the back corner, watched the two tearfully. Jennie closed her eyes.

“I’ll have Chaeyoung fingerprint him, then we’ll discuss interrogation.” She said slowly. “For now, put him in there.”

She gestured to the empty cell next to Jeongin. Something in her gut told her that the two of them were innocent. She’d need to wait for further evidence to prove it, but until then, she figured letting them stay together was the least she could do for them.

Lisa gave her a concerned glance, but obeyed her anyway, and walked Jisung to the cell. Jennie turned to her phone, choosing private messaging over an intercom announcement.

Hey. Park Jisung has been caught. Need you to fingerprint him

She’d barely set her phone back down on the desk when it buzzed with an incoming text from Chaeyoung.

On my way. Bringing Jisoo too

Ok

When she turned back to Jisung’s cell, she found him slumped against the side of his cell that bordered Jeongin’s, hand interlocked with Jeongin, who was whispering something to him. Both boys shook as though crying. Lisa gave a tired, weak smile as she made her way over to where Jennie sat. 

“Poor kids,” She mumbled, sitting down on the arm of Jennie’s desk chair.

Indeed, Jennie thought as she watched the two kids cry together.

Silence rang throughout the holding block. It was Jennie’s turn to supervise, but since the only two who were being held in the block were Sanghyuk and Jeongin, who were on opposite sides of the room, nothing had happened until Lisa brought Jisung in. Sanghyuk was still watching from his corner of the room, staring with glassy eyes at Jisung and Jeongin clutching each other through the bars of their cells. The sight made Jennie want to cry too.

Finally, the door to the holding block slid open and Chaeyoung, tailed by Jisoo, slunk inside like a cat, wearing matching blank expressions. Chaeyoung held a tray with a DNA swab and several glass tubes, while Jisoo carried the autopsy notes and case file with both hands. 

“Jisung-ssi,” Lisa called carefully. 

The boy looked up, eyes red and puffy. Lisa smiled wearily at him and unlocked his cell. He stood and walked toward her without complaint or restraint, and let her cuff him again as Chaeyoung approached him with the swab stick and test vial.

“Open your mouth for me, please,” She murmured.

Jisung did so, but unlike with Jeongin the previous week, he closed his eyes instead of watching her like she was a snake about to strike. The boy seemed like all the fight had been kicked from his young body. 

“Alright. I’ll run this and see what the system comes up with. You’re doing interrogation?” Chaeyoung asked, slipping the DNA swab rife with Jisung’s cheek cells into the test vial. 

Jennie exchanged a glance with Lisa, who was watching her blankly. Slowly, Jennie nodded and began to stand. Jisoo moved forward to hand her the autopsy notes and case file. Jennie didn’t really need it, but she took them anyway, allowing a soft smile. 

“Detective Kim?”

All four women looked up at the sound of Yeonjun’s voice. He poked his head into the holding block, but then stepped fully inside, bowing respectfully to the four of them.

“Yoo Kihyun-ssi and Son Hyunwoo-ssi are here.”

This caught Jennie off guard. They’d brought Shin Ryujin to the station almost a week ago; what did they need now?

“Why are they here?” She cocked her head, then gestured for Lisa to take Jisung to the interrogation room. Lisa nodded and began to guide him toward the room in the back of the holding block.

“I..I’m not really sure, actually,” Yeonjun looked a little sheepish. “They mentioned something about the girl, Shin Ryujin, but—”

“Ryujin?” Jisung interrupted loudly, whirling around.

“You have her?” Jeongin asked at the same time, getting to his feet.

Jennie was a bit taken aback at their reactions. Jisung’s gaze had turned slightly murderous, and Jeongin was staring in shock back and forth between Jennie and Yeonjun. Jennie swallowed.

“Tell them we haven’t had the chance to talk to her yet,” Jennie told Yeonjun, because it was the truth. Ryujin had been out cold the entire rest of Saturday the twenty-eighth and refused to say a word to anyone once she had woken up, much to Jennie’s chagrin. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Yeonjun bowed once more and cast a glance at Jeongin as he left the room. 

“Where did you find her?” Jeongin demanded as Lisa began to keep guiding Jisung toward the interrogation office.

Jennie wanted to answer him, but technically wasn’t supposed to, so she didn’t. Telling him they’d sent Kihyun’s team to pretty much kidnap her probably wouldn’t go over well with him, even if she’d been allowed to explain to him what happened. 

She half expected him to ask again, but when she didn’t answer, he sighed and slumped down on the bench in his cell and fell silent again, allowing Jennie to focus on beginning the interrogation with Jisung.

“My turn to supervise the holding block?” Lisa said as Jennie stepped into the interrogation office, where Jisung was already seated at the table. Jennie nodded and Lisa walked away, closing the door behind her. 

Jennie walked to sit down across from Jisung at the table, grabbing the tape recorder from where it was docked on the wall. Once she sat down and got as comfortable as she could in the hard, cold metal chair, she clicked it on.

“What’s your name?”

“Park Jisung. I’m seventeen.”

“Where were you on the night of October 10th, when Ga Chanyong was murdered?”

Jisung stared at her. 

“I’m going to tell you everything, okay?” He said slowly. Jennie nodded.

“Take your time,” She replied gently.

“Jeongin and I worked for the guy, Ga Chanyong. He owned the nightclub and we didn’t figure this out right away but he was also the best friend of our previous employer who died three years ago.” Jisung started. “At first we didn’t really see Chanyong-ssi a whole lot; he was a lot like our previous boss—a ghost, really. It wasn’t until we met Chanyong for the first time that we realized who he was.”

“How did you come to work for Chanyong?” 

“We-well, when our previous boss died, Ryujin, Jeongin and I were all alone. We met Sanghyuk-ssi around the same time Ryujin met Oh Nari, who I guess is like a sugar momma to her. Ryujin went with Nari and Sanghyuk got us jobs at the nightclub, but we never met our boss until maybe a month and a half before he died. That was when we realized who he was, and Sanghyuk stopped dealing to him.

“Jeongin and I were already suffering a lot before we met Chanyong but it got worse when he realized who we were. After our previous boss died, his associates, including us, I guess, kind of disappeared, and by the time we came face to face with Chanyong, he was already pretty much off the rails due to drug withdrawal and took out his anger and frustration on us. He…”

Jisung trailed off, having blanched terribly.

“You don’t have to tell me what he did; I know he treated the two of you beyond horribly. I need to know what happened on October the tenth.”

“He.. called us to his room. We met his bouncer halfway up the stairs and he told us we were late and dragged us into Chanyong’s bedroom, where he was waiting. He, uh, handcuffed me to the bed and ma-made me t-t-touch my-myself. The-then he started go-going for Jeongin and Sanghyuk came and hit him with a crowbar. Jeongin tried to get me free and Chanyong was coming for Jeongin again and then Ryujin appeared and hit him with the pipe.”

“And they killed him,” Jennie finished for Jisung.

Jisung nodded, a single tear rolling down his cheeks.

“Our forensic team found six sets of DNA at the crime scene. Chanyong’s, yours, Jeongin’s, Sanghyuk’s, and the fifth we’ve confirmed as Ryujin. The sixth one still has yet to be identified. Maybe you can help us with that?”

“It’s probably Nari,” Jisung took a deep breath in and looked up at Jennie.

“She was there that night?”

“Yes.”

“Did she participate in the murder?”

“No, she.. She showed up after. She helped Jeongin get me free and then helped the rest of us carry Chanyong’s body down to the station wagon that’s always been parked behind the nightclub.”

Jennie’s mind was whirling.

“What do you know about her?”

“Um, she’s younger than you but older than us. Maybe twenty-four? She’s kind of Ryujin’s sugar momma. I don’t really know much else; I’ve only really seen or talked to her twice.”

Jennie nodded slowly, trying to sort everything she’d just been told. Jisung just proved true everything that happened in the security footage and potentially revealed the existance of the woman who poisoned Kihyun and Hyunwoo’s daughter.

“I’m going to name three people. I need you to tell me if you know them. Yoo Kihyun, Son Hyunwoo, Son Chaemin.”

“Uh..” Jisung’s eyes turned misty, as though he were thinking. “I can’t say I do. Kihyun sounds kind of familiar, but I can’t remember where I heard it. Maybe my former boss said it at some point.”

“Your former boss, Diablo?”

Jisung snapped his head up in shock.

“You.. what? You know him?”

Jennie took a deep breath.

“Yoo Kihyun and Son Hyunwoo killed him.”

Jisung’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. “Why?”

“I can’t tell you, but I can tell you that we think this Oh Nari person is guilty of poisoning their daughter. Do you know anything about that idea?”

Jisung shook his head. “I don’t. I’m really sorry. I wish I could tell you about my former boss but I have no idea what he did, who he was. All I did was clean up after his workers.”

Jennie nodded.

“Can you… tell me, is Jeongin okay?”

The question sort of surprised Jennie. “Okay?”

“Yeah, like.. Physically, mentally. How is he?”

“He’s been… quiet. Checked for wounds, found none.”

“I missed him.”

“Why were you separated?”

“Well… after the tenth, Jeongin suggested we get out of her, and I agreed. We didn’t want to stay in this stupid city anymore. Nothing good ever came out of being in Seoul and we wanted to start over, so we tried to go to Busan with the car Jeongin received from his parents before they died.”

“Jeongin is an orphan?” Jennie felt her eyebrows shoot up.

“Yes, they died in a car accident when he was eleven. He had no one until he met me and Ryujin, but they left him a few things, like the car and a couple of personal belongings. He learned how to drive and we decided to drive to Busan, but we got a little bit past the Han River when he realized he forgot something super important. He left me alone for a bit in the most southern part of Seocho-gu to go back for it, and told me to continue on to Busan without him if he didn’t show up again within a week. I.. I couldn’t just leave without him, so I came back to find him. And then.. I wound up here. But at least he’s here too.”

Jennie was quiet for a second, taking in the information. She didn’t blame Jeongin and Jisung for trying to leave; she’d probably have tried to do the same. But if neither of them were found guilty of anything, they’d be allowed to leave Seoul. 

Jennie could only hope for that for them.

* * *

_ Saturday, 4 November, 20XX. 11:46 AM, Seoul Metropolitan Police Academy, Sajik-dong, Seoul. _

“Good morning, Shin Ryujin.” Jennie said pleasantly, staring back at the girl across the table.

“Good morning,” Ryujin mumbled.

Jennie looked over the girl again. She looked much healthier in comparison to Jeongin and Jisung, with full cheeks and straight posture. Her hair, as Sanghyuk had described, was a faded pale pink, and while dark bags pulled at her undereyes, she looked better than the boys in general. 

She clicked on the tape recorder. Jennie hoped that Ryujin hadn’t been made aware that Kihyun and his team, along with Jiyong, were in the other room, listening in on the interrogation. She needed Ryujin to believe that it was just the two of them talking, no one else.

“Yesterday evening, Park Jisung was arrested and interrogated, and told me the story of October the tenth. I’ll relay what he said and I would like your confirmation and your side of the story.”

Ryujin nodded, swallowing. 

“On October tenth, he and Yang Jeongin were called to Ga Chanyong’s room and tortured until Sanghyuk appeared and hit Chanyong with a crowbar. You then appeared with a metal pipe and took place in the murder of Ga Chanyong, in defense of Jeongin and Jisung. Following his death, a woman by the name of Oh Nari helped the five of you hide Chanyong’s body.”

Ryujin stared at the table. One second, two seconds, three seconds passed—and then she nodded slowly.

“Yes. That’s what happened,” She murmured, playing with her manicured fingernails.

“Jisung and Jeongin told me that following the death of your former employer, Oh Nari quote-unquote ‘took you away’. Who is Oh Nari to you?”

“If Jisung told you she’s my sugar momma, he’s not… really wrong,” Ryujin explained quietly. “After our boss died, the organization we worked for more or less disbanded. I met Nari while I was trying to find work at a cafe and she told me I was pretty.”

“How old were you?”

“Fifteen.”

“And Nari?”

“Twenty. I knew she was much older than me, but she… described something so pretty. She told me she wanted to take care of me, wanted to love me. I’d never been told anything like that before. I believed her, I wanted to believe her. She took me to her penthouse in Eunpyeong-gu and I’d been living there since. Before that, though, I tried to convinced Jisung and Jeongin to come with me, but they were angry that I was betraying them. That was the last time I saw them until the tenth of October.”

“What can you tell me about Nari?”

“Well, there was a lot I learned about her throughout the last three years. I don’t really know where to start.”

“Did she have any connections? To anyone?”

“Well, not long ago, maybe a few months before October, I learned that she was part of the organization that Jeongin, Jisung and I worked for. She.. was best friends with Chanyong and I guess in love with our boss. She always used to ask me what working for him was like, but I never knew who he was to her until I found the picture in her bedside. The picture disappeared after I asked her about it and she told me the truth.”

“She was in love with Diablo prior to his death?”

“Yes.” Ryujin confirmed. “She.. talked a lot about revenge, leading up to October. I guess once I knew about it, she had someone to talk to. I never knew how he died, but the way she talked about ‘getting even’ made it sound like he’d been murdered and I knew better to ask her about it.”

“Diablo was murdered.”

“I figured as much,” Ryujin sighed. “And Nari wanted to hurt the ones who did it.”

“Do you know who she wanted to hurt?”

“She once mentioned someone named ‘Shownu.’ She talked about poison and really, I should have done something then. If I had… maybe none of this would have happened.”

“What would you have done?”

“Gone to you. The police. Told you that I think my sugar momma wants to hurt someone, wants to poison someone. But then I’d have to confess everything about her. And I loved her.”

“What was her plan? Do you know?”

“I found out pretty soon after that that Chanyong was still her friend and that he used to work with Diablo. Then I learned that Jeongin and Jisung were working for him and God, all I wanted to do was save them. Since we parted ways that day three years ago, there hadn’t been a single day that I didn’t think about them. I kept quiet; I don’t know why. I should have done something. I found a bottle of Tramadol on the bathroom counter maybe two days before the murder.

“Then I went to Seoul on the tenth, went straight to the nightclub after telling Nari I wanted to find Jisung and Jeongin. She gave me the passcode to his secret back door and I walked in right as Chanyong was gonna hurt Jeongin. I didn’t even think; I grabbed the suspension pipe in the closet and hit him with it. Then after everything was over, Nari came and helped us hide the body. Then we went back to the penthouse.

“I felt so awful that night. Everything was my fault and I’d just killed someone. I let the guilt fester and then six days later it got too much and I sent an anonymous message to the one person I knew of who worked for Jiyong; I emailed Changkyun-ssi and told him to investigate the station wagon. But I knew I was too late when a few days after the murder, the bottle of Tramadol disappeared.”

“You’re saying Nari poisoned Kihyun and Hyunwoo’s daughter.”

“If either of them are Shownu, then yes. She did. And I didn’t stop her.”

“Where is Nari now?”

“Well, after she found out I was the one who tipped Changkyun-ssi off, she got really angry and sent me to Jeju. Whatever her plan was to hide me, it didn’t really work, obviously. As far as I’m concerned, she’s still in Eunpyeong-gu. I haven’t heard from her since before Jeju. I don’t know where she is if she’s not in Eunpyeong-gu.”

Jennie suppressed a sigh. If everything Ryujin was saying was true, Nari would have several charges stacked against her; attempted murder of a minor, illegal relationship with a minor.

“Let me ask you something, Ryujin,” Jennie said, leaning forwards a bit. “I’m assuming that everything you’re telling me is the truth, yes?”

“All of it.”

“Then why are you so easily telling me?”

“Because there’s nothing keeping me from doing it. I have no reason to lie to you. I know I’m going to be prosecuted and so are Sanghyuk-ssi and Nari but we honestly deserve it. The only ones who don’t deserve any kind of punishment are Jisung and Jeongin. And I need someone to know the truth, I need _someone _to know the story. If that person is you, then so be it.”__

__Ryujin’s eyes shone with unshed tears. Desperation, heartbreak, love—Jennie could see it all in her glassy dark brown eyes._ _

__Jennie knew she was telling the truth._ _

* * *

____

_ Saturday, 4 November, 20XX. 4:17 PM. Asan Medical Center, Pungnap-dong, Seoul. _

“Hey, Min.” Kihyun said casually, entering his friend’s hospital room with a bag of treats.

“Hey, Ki,” Minhyuk, laying in the bed next to the window, turned to face Kihyun, and his expression lit up when his eyes caught sight of the bag in Kihyun’s hand. “Ooh, what’d you bring me?”

“Some snacks,” Kihyun replied vaguely, closing the door behind him and taking his shoes off. His nose wrinkled slightly in disdain as he glanced around the stark hospital room. He’d spent too much time at a loved one’s bedside in such immaculate whiteness he was beginning to hate it. “How are you today?”

“Same as before. Sore, bored.” Minhyuk answered with a light laugh. 

Leave it to Minhyuk to smile even in light of something like this.

Kihyun made his way to Minhyuk’s bedside and upturned the bag, dumping snack bags and packages of small cakes and mochi across Minhyuk’s lap. Minhyuk giggled like a child as he sifted through the snacks, eyes sparkling like saucers.

“This was all Chae’s idea,” Kihyun said. “She was upset she couldn’t come with me to see you, so on our way to her violin lessons she made me stop at the store and picked out all these snacks for you.”

“She knows me well,” Minhyuk mumbled, tearing open a bag of sweet potato chips and shoving a handful into his mouth. Kihyun rolled his eyes, but was unable to fight down an amused smile.

“Hey, slow down,” Kihyun giggled, moving over some of the snacks so he could sit down on the bed with Minhyuk. “No one’s gonna take it away from you.”

“Honestly, they might,” Minhyuk sighed in frustration. “I can’t do anything around here, much less eat what I want. The food is so gross and bland, they never let me get up and do things. I’m so bored.”

“You have to heal,” Kihyun murmured. Minhyuk pouted.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t complain,” He argued around a mouthful of chips. Kihyun’s lips quirked up in a smile.

The two sat in silence for a bit, Minhyuk loudly munching through the bag while Kihyun watched. He wondered if Minhyuk would ask about the interrogation earlier that day. Part of him hoped he would, but most of him didn’t really want to think about it. 

He’d already decided that Oh Nari wasn’t going to get away with it.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Minhyuk asked sudddenly. Kihyun looked up and was slightly startled by the look in the older’s eyes.

“Of course you can,” Kihyun said.

“Can I be Chae’s godfather?”

“You already are, Min,” Kihyun frowned, confused.

“I mean, from now on. Can I be her godfather?”

“Minhyuk, I don’t understand.”

“I’m retiring from field work.”

“You.. what?” Kihyun let out a shocked laugh. “No you aren’t.”

“I have to, Ki.”

Kihyun laughed again in spite of himself. Oh, he was _so_ not ready to confront this. “No.”

“Ki..”

“Why do you mean you have to?”

“The doctor told me the damage to my shoulder is too severe for me to continue working.”

“Okay, so you let your shoulder heal completely. Let it get right back to good as new.”

“That’s not an option, Kihyun. It’s not going to go back to the way it was.”

 _"Why not?”_ Kihyun begged, feeling his eyes start to sting. 

“The bullet completely destroyed my shoulder joint and my scapula and the surgery could only do so much to fix it. The doctor told me that even after physical therapy I probably won’t ever regain full movement of my shoulder. I might be able to continue working with the agency in the IT or spy department but I can’t work in the field anymore.”

 _Fuck,_ Kihyun was not prepared for this at all. He tightened his lips against the sobs that rested in the back of his throat and pressed his thumbs into his eyes, willing his tears to go away but the more he tried to swallow them back, the faster they came.

“I’m sorry, Ki—”

“Don’t,” Kihyun choked, taking Minhyuk’s hand. “Don’t apologize, Min. Please don’t apologize.”

“Hey, why are you crying?” Minhyuk laughed, but he sounded watery and shaky. “I’m not dead.”

“Hyunwoo and I thinking about being back in the field,” Kihyun sobbed out.

“What…?”

“Today, in the interrogation… the girl, Ryujin, she confessed who tried to kill my daughter. I was—am—so angry, Min. We can’t stay out.”

“You don’t have to come back to work because of this.”

“But we do, Min. Going on the mission with you guys last weekend, I… I realized how much I miss it. And that’s so fucked up—I miss killing people? I miss being a hireable assassin? That is so messed up, and yet… I can’t. We can’t. I’m so torn, because I miss working with you and the team and I miss seeing Jiyong first thing in the morning and I miss Jungkook’s stupid jokes and I miss the adrenaline. I miss my home.”

“But what about Chae?” Minhyuk asked weakly. “You said you were done. You did it for her.”

“I—”

“Kihyun, please let me convince you to not do this,” Minhyuk scrambled to sit up better. “I understand that you miss it, but God, what if something happens to you or to Hyunwoo? You wouldn’t be able to tell Chaemin anything, just like this time, and she doesn’t deserve to be kept in the dark forever. There’s already so much you’re not telling her about yourselves, why do this too? You don’t have to let this drag you back in. Come on, Ki, you’re so much stronger than this.”

Kihyun cried harder. He knew Minhyuk was right. Chaemin would always be shielded from this, no matter what happened. He wished this were black and white, but it was so nuanced. 

“As much as I wish you could, Kihyun…” Minhyuk whispered. “You can’t have both. Pick the right one.”

Minhyuk was right. Kihyun felt horrible for even suggesting doing something like this to Chaemin, but he couldn’t help it. 

“What are we going to do, then?” Kihyun asked brokenly. “Neither of us are employed and don’t have any kind of college or work experience. We can’t live off of our retirement plan forever. She’s growing up and things will get more expensive—”

“You can do what I plan to do,” Minhyuk offered. “I’m going to stay with the agency but work in the spy department. Assuming Jiyong agrees to it, of course; I haven’t exactly brought it up to him yet. But just because I don’t think you should go back to field work doesn’t mean you should stop with the agency entirely, or you can work for the KCIA. I’m sure Jiyong will understand.”

Kihyun nodded. He knew Minhyuk was entirely correct on all accounts. 

“Jiyong is supposed to come back for a visit tomorrow. We can talk to him about it then, alright?” Minhyuk said with a teary smile. “Come on, stop crying. This isn’t the end for me or for you. Okay?”

“Mhm,” Kihyun nodded again, suddenly feeling a little silly for having a breakdown. “Sorry. I came here to keep you company but you’re the one comforting me.”

“Hey, this isn’t a onesided relationship,” Minhyuk laughed. “We take care of each other, don’t we? Like you told me last week, it’s not ‘I’, it’s ‘we’. Didn’t you tell me that?”

Kihyun laughed too. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

* * *

_ Sunday, 5 November, 20XX. 1:09 AM. Eungam-dong, Eunpyeong-gu, Seoul. _

A lone, black car, still running, rested at the curb in front of a sizable apartment building, puffs of steam falling like a misty waterfall from the exhaust. Kihyun sat in the passenger seat, turning a small handgun over in his hands. His long, lithe fingers fiddled with every catch, his nails sinking into every nook and cranny in the weapon’s sleek cover. His bottom lip, caught between his teeth, bled sluggishly onto his tongue.

With a silent breath, Hyunwoo pulled the keys from the Lexus’s ignition. He glanced over at his husband, who was staring stonily at the dashboard, gaze far away. Hyunwoo didn’t say anything, just waited for Kihyun to say or do something. This had been his idea, after all.

“I’ve never killed anyone for personal reasons.” He said after a second. Hyunwoo nodded; neither had he.

They sat in silence. It wasn’t tense, but it wasn’t necessarily comfortable, either. 

“Is this right?” Kihyun’s voice came suddenly.

“No,” Hyunwoo replied without really thinking. 

Just because he assassinated people didn’t mean he thought it was right.

Kihyun’s tongue moved around behind his lips, poking his cheek out.

“Are we bad parents?” Kihyun asked, but this time his voice lacked coldness and iciness—in fact, it trembled a bit.

“No.” Hyunwoo said sharply, making sure his voice sounded stronger, more resolute. 

“Are we bad people?”

This time, Hyunwoo hesitated a bit. This was a question he’d asked himself a lot. It came with every life he took. Back when he was young, barely twenty years old, he’d found it hard to convinced himself that organized assassinations like the ones he partook in were right, that he was doing it to keep Korea safe. Over time, he found himself caring less. He regarded his job with apathy overall. Nothing more, nothing less.

He supposed that being able to kill someone and not even blink made him a bad person, but at least he didn’t shake with enthusiasm when he held a gun to someone’s head. He supposed he could be worse.

“Maybe.” He settled on that. Kihyun leaned back to rest his head on the seat’s headrest.

“Do you want to kill the woman?” He asked Kihyun.

“I don’t know.” Kihyun sighed. “I don’t know what I want. Part of me wants her to die for what she did, but the other part of me doesn’t know if I can do it. I don’t understand why I’m hesitating. After Diablo threatened Chaemin, you and I had no problem killing him. And our connection to him was stronger than it is with this woman.”

Hyunwoo nodded; all of that was true. 

“After this, I’m done,” Kihyun inhaled sharply. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“I thought you missed it.”

“So did I. But Chaemin is more important.”

“I’m glad we agree on that.”

Kihyun took a deep breath.

“Will you be mad at me if I kill the woman?”

“No,” Hyunwoo answered honestly.

“Will you be proud? Or happy?”

“No.”

Kihyun snickered mirthlessly. “What kind of monsters are we?”

“We’re not monsters.”

“I’ve spent my entire life killing people, taking lives without batting an eye. I feel nothing.”

“Feeling nothing is better than feeling glee or happiness. At least you don't kill with a smile on your face. And you know what? After the job is done, you go home and smile at our eight year old, laugh with her, play with her, _love_ her. We’re a little messed up, Kihyun, but at least we can still feel things. We have each other and our friends and Chaemin for that.”

“This is fucked up.”

“Yeah, it is, but we’re not psychopaths. If you want to be done, we can be done.”

“I want to be done. We can go work for Korea National Intelligence Service.”

“We’d have to hide that from Chae too.”

“We’re already hiding our entire lives from her. What’s one more thing?”

“I don’t know if that’s the right attitude to have about this,” Hyunwoo ran his hand through his hair. 

“I don’t want to kill anymore. I’ve come to hate who I turn into; this… this _shell_ of a being.”

Hyunwoo could relate. 

“But we don’t have any kind of college experience or other work experience. I was eleven when I was orphaned and I’ve been an intelligence agent ever since. This is all I know. It’s all you know.”

Hyunwoo knew Kihyun was right.

“This situation is not black and white, Ki,” He said slowly. “This is nuanced. It’s not shades of grey, either—it’s all the colors of the rainbow and then some. We’ll figure it out. We’re not alone, either. Whatever happens—we do it together.”

Kihyun nodded.

Hyunwoo’s cell began to buzz. He fished it out of the cup holder on the door; Changkyun’s name flashed at the top of the screen. Hyunwoo pressed the green button, then tapped on the speaker icon.

“Hyungs?” Changkyun’s voice, muffled by static, floated from the device. “We’re ready for you. She’s alone in her room.”

“Thank you, Changkyun-ah.” Hyunwoo said.

Kihyun took a deep breath, then tucked the gun against his waist and zipped up his winter coat to conceal it. He moved to get out of the vehicle, but Hyunwoo’s hand on his arm stopped him. He looked back at Hyunwoo in confusion, and Hyunwoo took his chance to press his lips to Kihyun’s. Kihyun sank into the kiss, and once they pulled away, rested his forehead on Hyunwoo’s shoulder.

“I love you,” Hyunwoo mumbled. “I’ll always love you. Whatever we do, we do it together.”

“I love you too.” Kihyun replied. 

“I’ll be right behind you.”

“I know.”

Hyunwoo waited, watching through the glass windows of the luxurious building until he saw Kihyun vanish behind the elevator doors. Then put the keys back into the ignition and drove a little to park the car in the apartment building lot. Then he got out, locked the car, and made his way into the building.

Kihyun could feel his nerves climbing with every floor the elevator passed. He was painfully aware of the loaded gun strapped to his hip, almost as if he could feel the bullets resting in the weapon. He glanced at the clock on the wall of the lift; almost one-thirty. No wonder the building had been deserted, save for the exhausted-looking receptionist on the bottom floor who’d barely spared Kihyun a glance.

He forced his heart rate to slow down as the elevator stopped at the top floor with a polite ding. His steps were shaky and numb as he made himself walk, walk from the elevator to the stairs leading to the penthouse. He barely remembered walking up the stairs, approaching the penthouse door, lifting his gloved fingers to the keypad and punching in the code Ryujin had told him. He swallowed when the door’s electronic lock clicked, and pushed it open.

Several lovely, expensive-looking pairs of shoes rested in and around the shoe rack by the door. He looked around. The penthouse was stunning—the windows yawned from the ceiling to the floor and offered a gorgeous view of the surrounding neighborhood. Priceless furniture and artwork decorated the hardwood, and a beautiful set of illuminated modern stairs led to the upstairs half of the penthouse.

Kihyun pulled the gun from his waist as he crept towards the stairs, his shoes making no sound against the glossy hardwood. The penthouse bathed in darkness, only gently illuminated by the light from the steps, the moon, and the stars dangling in the sky outside. 

He eventually found the woman in the bedroom furthest away from the door. She sat very still on her knees in front of a window that stretched from the top of the ceiling to the floor. Her hair was long and blonde, almost silver in the light of the moon. Her body was turned a bit sideways, her back to Kihyun but not enough to fully obscure her face. Her eyes were shut, her expression tranquil. 

Her eyes slid open as Kihyun slunk into the room, hand wrapped around his gun.

“Hello,” She said. Her voice was smooth and young. “I was hoping you’d come before the police did.”

“Why’s that?” Kihyun murmured, feeling his hand start to grow sweaty.

She shrugged. “I figured you’d kill me.”

Kihyun almost pulled the trigger; he almost did. But he couldn’t. He didn’t want to. Kihyun growled, then lowered the gun, frustrated. Nari turned her head to stare at him blankly. She was a very pretty woman, with soft edges and smooth features. But somehow, despite her pleasant look, everything about her screamed _danger._ He didn’t need to know what she’d done to know she was a sociopath.

“Can’t do it, huh?” She mumbled. Kihyun sighed.

“I’ve never killed anyone for personal reasons.” He muttered. “I did it because they paid me to.”

“Except for Diablo.” 

It wasn’t a question. Diablo had been the first personal kill Kihyun had ever made, and they both knew it. 

“Even you never knew his real name?” Kihyun replied coldly. She was still staring at him as though gazing through him. 

“He told me once. A riddle. I didn’t figure it out until after I saw his body.”

Kihyun bit down on his tongue. “I don’t regret his death.”

“I know you don’t,” Her voice dropped in volume, making her sound husky and much older than she was.

“What will you do if I don’t kill you, right here and now?”

“I’ll do one of two things. I’ll run, or I’ll jump from Mapo Bridge.”

“They’ll catch you if you run.”

She turned away from him, gazing out the window at the bright, full moon, hanging in the sky, an orb of silver. The blonde of her hair flashed brilliantly under the silver glow.

“You tried to take my daughter’s life.” Kihyun steeled himself.

“You took my love’s life.”

 _He deserved it,_ went unsaid. Kihyun didn’t need to remind her. They both knew it, even if she’d loved him.

Kihyun’s thumb ran over the trigger on the gun. 

“You and I both know you won’t do it.” She said softly. “If you don’t, I will.”

Kihyun shifted. “You know, ever since my team and I were sent to retrieve your little pet, quite a few people have asked if we’re back. Neither of us have really been able to answer them.”

She blinked.

“When you meet Chanyong and Diablo in hell, you can tell them what we decided.”

He uncocked the gun, clicked on the safety, and tossed it towards her. It hit the linoleum with a harsh thunk, bounced once, then slid across the floor before tapping against the sole of her shoe.

She picked up the gun and held it in wonder, as if fascinated by the deadly weapon. She looked it over, then her finger found the safety catch and she flicked it off. Kihyun waited, his hands in his pockets. 

“You can tell them that we decided no, we’re not back. We won’t _be_ back. We’re stronger than that.”

“Stronger than what?” She scoffed, cocking the gun. “Stronger than murder? Giving up now on your lives as assassins doesn’t make you and Shownu good people.”

“You’re right. I’ve done things I’m not proud of, but everyone has regrets and I’ll learn to let them go. Killing people doesn’t make us strong. What makes us strong is our decision to give up our lives to raise another, our choice to try to start over.”

“Don’t you think it was a mistake bringing Chaemin into your life? You’re caught between two worlds.”

“And we’re strong enough to pick one. I’ll never regret my decision to be a parent.”

She smirked, then sat up straight and held the barrel of the gun to her temple.

“I’ll tell them that.”

_**Bang!** _

Kihyun watched as her body slumped sideways. Blood began to pool around her head, staining her blonde locks a vicious red. He swallowed, glanced one more time at the silver orb in the sky, then turned and left.

He took all fourteen flights of stairs down toward the parking garage instead of the elevator, giving him a lot more time to think. He knew Changkyun and Hyunwoo had already begun editing the security footage in the penthouse—he hadn’t been stupid enough to miss the cameras in every corner of that apartment. But no matter how they fudged the evidence, even if Kihyun wasn’t ever caught, he and Hyunwoo and Changkyun would always know what went down the early morning of November fifth.

It wasn’t often that deaths stuck with him. But he knew that Nari’s death, along with Diablo’s, would stay in his head forever.

 _Whatever,_ Kihyun thought and shook himself against the bitter wind once he stepped into the parking garage. No use trying to run from his past. He wasn’t a good person but he wasn’t a bad person either.

He wanted to be a good parent and he’d continue to try his damn hardest. 

That was his job now.

* * *

_ Monday, 6 November, 20XX. 1:35 PM. Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, Sajik-dong, Seoul. _

Jennie sighed heavily as she placed the completed case file in the director's box. She'd sent a team to Eunpyeong-gu early that morning to arrest Oh Nari only for them to discover her corpse, bleeding from her temple and a loaded glock in her hand. An autopsy and fingerprinting of her body had confirmed that she was the sixth identity in the crime scene and also the woman from the security footage who'd stolen a bottle of Tramadol from Ga Chanyong's desk. She was the woman who'd poisoned Chaemin. And now that she was dead and the other four were in custody, the only thing that was left was the trials, scheduled for the 20th of November.

The nightclub had been shut down. Jisung and Jeongin hadn't been charged with anything and were only being kept to provide witness testimonials. Ryujin was charged with voluntary manslaughter. Sanghyuk was charged with voluntary manslaughter and several accounts of illicit drug use. Both were planning to plead not guilty. If Nari had survived, she'd have been charged with two accounts of attempted murder, and an account of relations with a minor.

Sanghyuk hadn't been able to hire a lawyer, but Ryujin, who apparently had been left a fortune by Nari, used some of the money to find one for him and hire her own.

Jennie had already made personal predictions about how the trials would end up going, but it didn't matter what she thought. The only reason she'd need to take part in the trial is because she happened to be the detective working the case. It was the same with Lisa. 

Chaeyoung and Jisoo also made it clear that they'd be in the courtroom on the day of the trial. Jennie had tried to convince them otherwise, but they were the two most stubborn doctors she'd ever met and didn't get anywhere with them. She smirked to herself; they were an unstoppable pair.

"Jennie?"

She turned at the sound of Jisoo's beautiful voice and was met with gentle lips on her own.

"I'm proud of you." Jisoo said softly. 

Jennie offered a weak smile; this case had been among the most taxing she'd ever had to work on.

"It's not over yet," She mumbled, letting Jisoo wrap her arms around her shoulders. 

"Please be my girlfriend."

The statement caught Jennie completely off guard, but her initial shock faded into glee without much hesitation.

"How romantic. Jeez, I thought you'd never ask." She laughed, leaning up to kiss Jisoo again. Jisoo giggled against her lips.

"Ah, to be young and in love." Lisa's voice sang from down the hall. Jisoo and Jennie pulled away to see Lisa and Chaeyoung approaching from the far end of the hall, lISA grinning mischievously and Chaeyoung's eyes in a perpetual eye roll. "You're official now?"

"Yes." Jisoo answered resolutely.

"Sheesh, finally." Chaeyoung huffed.

"On another note, you guys are sure you want to attend the trials?" Jennie asked.

"Jennie, we've been over this like eight times already. We've been a part of this case since the beginning, you know damn well we're gonna see how it ends."

"Okay, okay. Just making sure."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Time:**  
>  A letter from Kihyun.


	9. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A letter from Kihyun.

_It’s been almost two months since everything settled down. Today is the twenty-first of December, and we just got back home from Jiyong and Seunghyun’s private wedding ceremony. Jiyong asked Chaemin to be the flower girl. She’d never been so excited, and looked so pretty in her little dress._

_It’s been hard to go back to normal, but we’re getting there. Not a lot has really happened since the trials, which were a month ago, but somehow, things still seem.. Wrong. I’m sure it will blow over eventually, but until then, I’ve decided to take Chaemin to a therapist every week. She’s been through a lot. We all have._

_The trial took place on November 20th. Sanghyuk and Ryujin were both charged with voluntary manslaughter, and Sanghyuk had another charge of illicit drug use. Ryujin ended up using some of the money left to her from Nari to hire a lawyer for Sanghyuk too. Both of them pleaded not guilty to their charges._

_Detective Kim and Detective Manoban, Yang Jeongin and Park Jisung all were asked to provide witness testimonials in both trials. Ryujin ended up being acquitted, after telling the whole story and having Sanghyuk, Jisung, Jeongin, and the detectives confirm it. The court dropped the charge against her on account of defending her friends and found her not guilty. Sanghyuk was also acquitted of the manslaughter charge, but the jury found him guilty on account of drug use and distribution, and he was sentenced to ten years in prison._

_As for Ryujin, Jeongin and Jisung, I don’t really know what happened to them after the trial ended. I heard from Detective Manoban that the money Ryujin was left with was actually an ungodly amount, and that Ryujin had decided to use it to enroll all three of them into community college and, hopefully, therapy. I don’t know much about them or their relationship, but I hope they forgive each other. Those three are damaged. I hope they can help each other heal._

_I’ve made good friends out of the detectives who worked the case. Last I heard, Detective Kim and Doctor Kim had made their relationship official and are planning to move into a flat together come February. As for the other two, Detective Manoban and Doctor Park, I’m not really sure where they stand, but I wish them happiness and luck all the same._

_I was surprised to learn about how long Jiyong and Seunghyun had been together. According to Daesung, they’d began dating shortly after Chaemin’s fourth birthday, and simply neglected to tell either Hyunwoo or I. I don’t really blame them—we did kind of drop off the face of the planet, in a manner of speaking. But I don’t want to be so estranged from Jiyong anymore, and I want to see my former teammates more often. Their wedding was beautiful. It was small and quiet, with a handful of people and a tiny groom party, but they didn’t need a huge wedding to show that they’re happy together. They moved to Hannam, The Hill apartment complex—the biggest, most expensive in Korea—where they plan to stay. Not too close, not too far._

_Minhyuk, like he said he would, retired from field work, shortening our former team from five to four. He’s still on injury leave and probably will be until he regains most, if not all, movement of his arm, but Jiyong didn’t let him leave the agency and now Minhyuk is set to start training in the IT department with Team EXO—the best group of hackers, identity thieves, and computer geniuses in South Korea. Now that he’s not in the field anymore, he’s my first and foremost choice for Chaemin. He’s her godfather for a reason._

_We moved houses, moved all the way across Yongsan-gu. It wasn’t a big move, only across the Yongsan district, but we left our tiny apartment in Bogwang-dong for a bigger, roomier apartment in Ichon-dong, right on the Han River with a beautiful view of the river and the city across. Chaemin picked the room with the best view over the Han—not that I was surprised. Our new location is only disclosed to Jiyong, Seunghyun, and the remainder of the X Team, along with Minhyuk. That way, if we ever need to be reached, only those we trust can find us. Nobody else can know who we were, who we are._

_Hyunwoo and I work with the government now, despite Hyunwoo’s initial concerns. Thanks to our resumes and reputations, it wasn’t hard to find work, and now we work together with Seunghyun in the intelligence department for excellent pay and a chance to see our friends and family often. We act as consultants, in a way—we plan missions, we get asked for advice and input and really have already gained a decent level of respect among our new coworkers. I won’t be going back into the field anymore, but at least I can help from a distance. I care more about my family—Jiyong, Changkyun, Hoseok, Hyungwon, Jooheon, Minhyuk, Hyunwoo, Chaemin—than my job, or whether or not I’m a good person._

_The question is subjective. I can’t let myself worry about it anymore. I can only focus on the future—my future, Hyunwoo’s future, Chaemin’s future._

_Chaemin can’t know about what we did or what we still do. I know she won’t stay in the dark forever but I’m going to protect her, no matter what I have to do._

_I still remember the mixed reactions to my pregnancy. A lot of people were happy, but a lot of people were concerned—concerned for me, for Hyunwoo, for my baby. But trying to run from my past, pretend it didn’t happen, pretend I’m a good person—I can’t do that. All I can do is live with it, and strive to be better. Strive to be a good father, a good husband._

_I’m a little messed up, but really, who isn’t? I can’t keep concerning myself with morality and being a bad person. I brought a new life into the world and I’m responsible for her, for raising her to be someone I’m not._

_I was orphaned at eleven years old, and taken into Jiyong’s life because I had no where else to go, nothing else to do. I can’t let that happen to my Chaemin, my baby. I won’t let it happen to her._

_If I put a responsible, happy, good person into the real world, I’ll be satisfied._

_But make no mistake. My past will keep catching up to me because that’s how this world works. And they can come for me, they can come for Hyunwoo, they can come for my friends—we can handle it._

_But if they come for Chaemin, it’s over for them._

_I’m ready to start this chapter of my life. I’m ready to be someone else. To be a parent._

_That’s my job._

_—Yoo Kihyun, 31.  
Former occupation: Hireable assassin   
Current occupation: Intelligence agent, and a father_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've reached the end. I really hope you enjoyed this story, it's probably my favorite thing I've written. Now that it's over, I can focus on some other things: a lot of people have requested stuff for my ice skating universe, which is what I'll be turning my focus to now. Thank you so much, readers, for sticking to this story to the end. I appreciate you so much. Please take care of yourselves, and thank you for reading!
> 
> \--TinyStars


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